eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520 Macon GA 31201 Close Encounters Copyright © 2008 by Author ISBN: 978-1-60504-139-1 Edited by Angela James Cover by Anne Cain All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: October 2008 www.samhainpublishing.com
Close Encounters B.H. Dark
Dedication
For Treena and David, who have put up with this stuff for years.
And for Mr. Libby, who tactfully ignored those two girls scribbling in the back of his classroom.
Close Encounters
Prologue
“Remember, it’s straight in, then out.” “I believe I have studied Earthling sexual habits carefully enough to have grasped that particular mechanism,” Andyr commented. Nisom hissed, the typical Odilian response to an unfunny joke. “I was talking about our plan,” Nisom said. “We enter the Earth’s atmosphere, pick up the subjects, and immediately leave. Provoking a war with the Earthlings wouldn’t be cost-effective.” Lubda spoke up for the first time from the reclining couch in the corner of the bridge. “It’s always money with you, Nisom. There’s more to life than money, you know.” “I’m glad you feel that way, Lubda. You won’t mind my keeping your share of the money when the experiment is a success and we have more Odilian credits than the Supreme Ruler.” Nisom’s appendages rasped together in anticipation. “Imagine how our home planet will greet new entertainment after all these years of the same old disks and computer-generated holograms. Live subjects. We’ll be able to name our price.” “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Nisom,” said Andyr from the navigation controls. “We need to procure the subjects first. And ensure the chemical reaction works as well as we anticipate.” “That’s another thing,” Lubda piped up. “I understand the science, but I can’t help thinking that chemistry doesn’t quite explain the biological phenomena we see in humans. From watching the disks there seems to be more, sometimes…something nonmolecular, even.” Nisom and Andyr glanced at each other and raised their neck quills in a universal sign of derision.
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“It is precisely from watching the disks that I have formulated the chemicals,” Andyr explained with exaggerated care. “The disks are our primary source of information about human life. They are documented fact. This is why they are so fascinating.” “I know, but…” “The disks prove that Earthlings are completely predictable in every way. They are biological machines programmed to behave according to the promptings of their hormones and impulses. Unlike us,” Andyr added, with an arrogant twist of the head that indicated which species was preferable. “If Earthlings are so predictable, why do we need real ones? Why can’t we just keep on watching the disks or utilizing the holograms?” It was Nisom’s turn to speak to Lubda condescendingly. “Because everybody on Odilia has watched the disks so many times that their eyestalks have turned gray. They know the holograms we developed aren’t real. Live humans will respond the same way as the humans on the disks, especially with our chemical prompting—but they will be in situations of our engineering. Situations that Odilians will pay vast amounts of money to see.” “I don’t know,” Lubda began, still having second thoughts about the plan. “This will be reality entertainment at its finest. Our program will surpass all the tedious and infantile programming available.” Nisom practically crowed, pacing in long slides across the floor, growing more excited. “Survivor 283: Fath Nebula, yet another season of tribes living and competing on a distant moon of some planet surrounded by poisonous gases and desolate, inhospitable terrain. Boring. Life Swap, where two members of very different alien races trade places for a week. Dull. We are offering real entertainment. We will be rich.” Lubda shrugged, a maneuver that for an Odilian required the use of twelve different sets of muscles. “Fine. I bow to your superior knowledge of Earthlings and Odilians. I’m just glad that I got to choose the four Earthlings myself.”
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Nisom turned away from Lubda and joined Andyr at the controls. “Enough idle chitchat. We’re wasting time we could be using to make money. Prepare to enter Earth’s atmosphere, Andyr. Check the transporter coordinates, Lubda. It’s time for the experiment to begin.”
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Chapter One
“Oh my.” Cassandra blinked and stared around her. Somehow, she was in a perfectly square room, sitting on a heart-shaped bed. Thick red shag carpeting covered the floor and walls. And there was a… A mirror on the ceiling? She wasn’t at home. This was most definitely not Foxborough, Connecticut. People in Foxborough didn’t tend to go for red heart-shaped furniture. Was it real? She gingerly touched the satiny bedspread. It felt real. She got up and looked through the open door, which led to a rather lavish tile and chrome bathroom with a heart-shaped tub. That looked real, too. Tacky, but real. Unless this was a particularly lifelike dream. She’d had some very lifelike dreams lately, dreams where when she woke up she had to lie in bed and catch her breath for a few minutes before she could remember where she was and who she was. Dreams that were populated by strange, shadowy people, and weirdly intense feelings. This could be one of those dreams. Except it appeared that she was alone. Experimentally, she gave herself a hard pinch on the arm. It hurt. “Wake up,” she told herself. Nothing happened. “I’m Cassandra Mary Elliot, of 46 Maple Street, Foxborough, Connecticut, USA,” she said aloud. Her voice sounded flat, its loudness absorbed by the shag carpeting. “I’m twenty-one years old, and I am probably dreaming right now.” Well, she knew who she was, anyway. That was a step up. Unless she wasn’t really Cassandra Elliot of Maple Street, Foxborough, and she was only dreaming that she knew who she was.
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Cassandra shook her head. It didn’t do to think too much in dreams. She’d read a book about it recently. You should relax and enjoy and forget about logic and reality. That decided, she sat down on the heart-shaped bed and looked around her. There was something weird about this room, besides the fact that nobody in Foxborough would be seen dead in somewhere like this, and that she shouldn’t be here either. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, though. Instead, she tried to remember what her last waking thought had been. She’d read that sometimes when you fell asleep your brain kept on going over what you had been thinking about and your dreams reflected that. But the last thing she could remember was sitting in her bedroom, at her desk, halfheartedly studying because she couldn’t sleep. Cassandra looked down at herself; she was wearing her cream satin nightgown and her green Chinese silk bathrobe. Well, she hadn’t been wearing that before. She’d been in flannel pajamas. And there was no way on Earth that she would be wearing this outfit in somebody else’s bedroom; she practically blushed every time she put in on in her own bedroom, where nobody could see her. So she must be dreaming. It was good she’d got that settled, anyway. “Hey, hi there.” A deep voice, slow and drawly and masculine. Cassandra’s head shot up. And immediately she knew what had been weird about the room on top of its general weirdness, because there was an open door in the room and there hadn’t been any doors before except for the one leading to the bathroom. But now there was a door open in the wall across from her. And a man standing in it. Cassandra scrambled further onto the bed, as if it would give her protection. The man was tall and strong-looking. He had long straight brown hair that tumbled over his shoulders and a goatee around his mouth. And he was wearing—this got worse and worse—faded jeans, a black leather jacket, and a black T-shirt that had some rock band’s name printed on it. “Who are you?” She couldn’t keep the fear out of her voice.
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The man regarded her evenly. “My name’s Beauregard B. Bryson, but you might as well call me Beau because everyone does. Is this your place?” “I—I’m not sure. If it’s my dream, I guess it’s my place. But it’s a little strange.” Beau nodded, slowly. “Yeah. Well, I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels like they’re having an acid flashback.” He stepped forward and Cassandra retreated a little further back on the bed. It might be her dream, but she wasn’t so sure that he wasn’t a psycho rapist. She’d seen a photograph of a psycho rapist one time in the newspaper and she was pretty certain he’d been wearing a leather jacket and a rock band T-shirt. It might even have been the same rock band he was wearing. Instead of leaping onto the bed and raping her, he held out his hand. “Guess we’d better get to know each other if we’re dreaming together.” His hand was big. The nails were short and his fingers looked pink and scrubbed. Cassandra took his hand and shook it as if it were the tail of a rabid raccoon she thought was going to spin around and bite her at any moment. Despite her fear, it felt warm and welcoming. Beau smiled. “What’s your name?” If it was a dream, it probably wouldn’t do any harm. “Cassandra.” “Hi there, Cassandra.” He sat down on the bed beside her. Cassie tried not to breathe too much, but she couldn’t help noticing that he smelled of soap and something minty, like gum. “Do you think we should go have a look around this place and see where the hell we are?” “I don’t know.” Something occurred to her. “How did you make the door happen?” As soon as she said it she realized it was a bizarre question, but Beau just nodded and shrugged. “Dunno,” he said. “I thought of there being a door and there it was, and there you were.” “That’s weird.” “Yup.” “Maybe it’s just a coincidence.” “Maybe.”
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“Do you remember how you got here?” “Nope. Last thing I remember I’d just beat my brother at poker and I was watching a rerun of Wheel of Fortune. That’s why I thought it was a flashback. The spinning lights can do that to ya.” Cassandra nodded, though she wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “Maybe you’re right, we should go and look around and figure out where we are.” “Can’t hurt,” Beau said amiably. He stood up and offered her his hand again, presumably to help her off the bed. Flustered, she ignored it and slid off the bed by herself. Her bathrobe rode up her legs and she tugged it back down before she stood up. When she looked at him, Beau’s gaze was on her bare legs where she’d just covered them, and she blushed. “Uh,” he said, and ran his hand through his long brown hair. “I guess we’d better start with that door.” He went to it, still open in the carpeted wall, and waited for her to join him. Well, if he was going to rape her, it seemed like he’d have done it when they were sitting on the bed together. And really she might as well see what this dream was all about before she woke up. She joined him at the door and they walked out into the corridor together. It looked like a hotel corridor: long, papered in beige, with sunken lighting and tastefully patterned carpet. Soft music piped in. They walked down the hallway in silence, their footfalls muffled by the carpet. Beau’s legs were much longer than Cassandra’s, but he walked slowly to keep pace with her, and she could smell the clean scent of his hair. The hallway ended in a single white door. It had a gold handle. “I guess this is it,” Beau said and he reached out and twisted the knob. Even though Cassandra knew this wasn’t real, she still held her breath with trepidation as he opened the door. The vast room beyond was lit with a dim blue light. It seemed to be coming from a large transparent blue tube in the centre of the room that stretched from the floor upwards
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toward a distant ceiling. The walls of the room were invisible, shadowy and too far away to perceive. “Cool,” said Beau appreciatively and he stepped inside the room. Cassandra followed him, looking down at their shadows, cast long by the light from the hallway behind them. And then their shadows disappeared along with the light. Cassandra whirled around. There was nothing behind them but darkness. The door was gone. “Beau—” she started. She felt his hand curl around hers. She blinked, and tensed, and the world dissolved around her and then reformed. They were inside the blue tube. She held out her hand and knocked on the wall of it. It felt like some kind of strong, thick glass. There wasn’t a light source; the walls themselves seemed to be glowing. “What’s going on?” she asked. Beau was close beside her. The tube wasn’t that wide, but there was enough room for them to stand and move around a little bit. “Beats me.” There was a noise, something like a vent opening, and a rush of air. She felt something warm whoosh over her skin and breathed in a smell that seemed familiar somehow. Appealing, exciting. Heat flushed through her body. But it wasn’t like any heat she’d ever felt before— not like the warmth from sunshine, or an open fire. It came from deep inside her and radiated from her center into her limbs, making her fingers tingle, her breasts feel heavy, her belly melting, sending a pure sizzling lightning bolt between her legs. “Oh my,” she gasped. She heard a deep growly sound from next to her and realized it was Beau. She felt Beau like a magnet beside her. She could hear his breathing, hear his heart, feel him warm and big and alive beside her, and she suddenly felt more hungry than she’d ever been in her life.
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But not hungry for food. Hungry for him. For Beau. She turned to look at him and God, he looked good. Tall and strong and handsome. There was a dark light in his blue eyes. He looked as ravenous as she was. His tongue moistened his lips and her gaze stuck on his mouth. His lips were full, his tongue pink and wet, and there was nothing in the world she wanted to do more than to kiss him. She had to kiss him. She didn’t care if he was a stranger, or that she didn’t know where they were. She licked her own lips and imagined tasting him there already. It was maddening, tempting, irresistible. She stepped forward and he met her halfway, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight against his hard body. When their mouths met it sent another shock down her spine, and she actually felt her crotch dampen, felt the lips of her sex swell inside her underwear. She would have blushed if it didn’t feel so wonderful. Her nipples were hard and rubbed against him through the layers of silk she wore, begging for his touch. His lips were soft and warm, and right away they opened, coaxing hers open too. His tongue traced her lips and dipped inside her mouth, filling her with his masculine taste, and Cassie knew that this wasn’t all she wanted. She wanted him. All of him. Inside her. His hands on her naked skin, his—his penis. Inside her vagina. This time, she did blush. “What’s happening?” she whispered, between kisses. Normally she wouldn’t talk and kiss at the same time. But she didn’t seem to be able to stop, even to find out what was going on. His mouth was too delicious and his body too exciting. “I don’t know,” he murmured back to her. His voice vibrated against her chest where she was pressed against him, and his facial hair tickled her chin. “But I like it.” Should she like it, too? She couldn’t be sure; her body’s demands were too strong. She couldn’t stop to think. She didn’t want to. She groaned and pressed herself against
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him still closer, sucking his tongue into her mouth and biting on his lower lip. She grabbed the front of his leather jacket and pulled him to her as hard as she could, arching her body up into his. She heard Beau moan and then she felt his hands pushing at her robe, then on her breasts through her nightgown. His fingers tweaked her nipples and she cried out, unprepared for the sensations that zinged the entire length of her body. “Dang,” he muttered roughly and with a single, swift movement he grasped the neck of her nightie and ripped it open to her waist. “What are you—” She barely had time to gasp half the question before his lips were at her breast, sucking her nipple deep into his hot mouth, his hand clamped around her. “Oh!” she squealed as pleasure bolted through her. She looked down and saw the top of Beau’s head, his shiny, long hair. She could see his mouth on her, feel the rasp of his beard against her sensitive skin. His hand was dark against the creamy skin of her breast. The sight of his lips on her and the feeling of his tongue and teeth urgently suckling her, were incredibly erotic. And I just met him five minutes ago, she thought. “This dream is amazing,” she gasped. “It is,” Beau breathed, and he moved to her other breast. This time she could feel the air cooling her wet left nipple as he attacked her right one, and it was as if he was licking both of them at once. She’d never known it would be so exquisite. But it wasn’t enough. Cassandra’s hands itched to touch Beau. She had a sudden flash of imagining what it would be like to hold his hot, hard rod in the palm of her hand. She knew what a penis looked like, of course. She’d seen pictures and movies and read descriptions; this was the twenty-first century, after all. But she’d never before imagined the feeling of one so much that she could actually feel it, hot and throbbing and alive in her hand. There would be hair at the base of it. Would it be coarse, like the hair between her own legs, or would it be soft and silky, like
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the hair on Beau’s head? She let her hand drop to the top of his head and tangled her fingers in the strands. She pulled him up to kiss her again and this time she was the one who thrust her tongue inside his mouth, her whose hands were fumbling with his clothes. She tried to undo his belt buckle but the angle was unfamiliar, and she tugged without any result. “Let me do it,” Beau mumbled, and he took one of his hands away from her breasts, the other one still squeezing her. With a deft movement he unfastened his jeans and kicked them and his boxers down his legs, and his cock leapt into her hand. Even with all her anticipation she was unprepared for how he felt: his length, his girth, his hardness and the softness of his skin. Beau groaned and pushed his penis into the tunnel of her palm. She squeezed him experimentally. “Darlin’, that feels so good.” He pushed against her, and she stroked him. She should stop, look down, experience this moment fully. She shouldn’t rush this. She—she shouldn’t be doing this in the first place. He was so big. So strange, so new. She wanted him inside her. Penetrating her. Fucking her. Another melting wave of lust shot through her. Cassandra raised her leg and wrapped it around his hip. His firm thigh rubbed against her pussy through her underwear and she nearly cried out in pleasure. Who knew this would be so amazing? “Jesus, Cassie,” he growled into her ear. He grabbed her ass with both hands and slammed her up against the wall of the tube. She barely had time to gasp with shock and desire before he’d torn off her underwear like he’d torn her nightgown and she felt the hot head of his dick between her legs, probing at her entrance. “Please,” she whimpered. “Now. F—fuck me.” This was some dream. There was no way on Earth she would say those words aloud in real life. Or that she would dig her nails into a man’s ass, driving him forward, into her. With an inarticulate cry Beau thrust forward, plunging his cock into her up to the hilt.
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Pain blossomed inside her and she screamed, surprised and shocked and thrilled. Even as she panted in a breath the pain had turned to pure, burning pleasure. And yet Beau had stopped. She turned wide eyes to his face and saw him, jaw clenched, sweat sheening his face with the effort of his restraint. “Are you all right?” he gritted. “More,” she answered him. “I don’t want to—” She clenched her legs around him. And other muscles, inner muscles she’d never felt before. “I want you to,” she said. He let out a strangled groan and began pumping into her wildly. Every thrust rubbed her even hotter. She could hear the wet sound of him sliding in and out of her. The desperate sound of them kissing each other. The tube was full of a scent she’d never smelled before, something musky and enticing, the smell of sex. She loved it. Beau tilted her hips and she felt him stretching her in another way, felt the hard ridge of his cock rubbing against a spot deep up inside her, and his groin and abdomen grinding a spot outside of her, and everything was suddenly much much better, incredible as it seemed. He pounded into her, long and strong and relentless, his breath coming in short sharp gasps. Every movement was more pleasurable than the last. “Oh hell Cassie, you’re so wet and tight,” Beau muttered against her, never slackening the hard, even pace of his thrusts. “Come. Please come, I need to feel you.” Come where? she thought dazedly, until some far-flung rational part of her mind said Oh, he means have an orgasm. No sooner had she thought it than the fringes of her mind began to melt and blur and her body began to tremble. She couldn’t bear it. Stop. Don’t stop. Cassandra arched back against the blue glass tube and closed her eyes and thrashed her head back and forth. This wasn’t like the orgasms she’d had before, from her fingers, centered on her clitoris. This was everywhere, burning every inch of her skin and swelling through her whole body and
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mind. She dug her nails even deeper into Beau’s flesh and felt her body slamming into orbit, out of control, faster, too fast. She screamed. Her body convulsed around him. Beau roared and thrust into her one last time, powerfully enough to drive her hips hard against the tube. The tube shuddered and Beau jerked inside her. She felt a jet of heat and saw him grimace with pleasure. He held her there, pinned against the glass wall, for several moments while they both just breathed. She was hot, and wet, and sweaty, and tingling all over. Her heart was pounding. Her pussy felt swollen and soaking and…used. Beau took one of his hands from her hips and brushed her hair back from her face. Then he brushed his own hair back from his face. “Are you all right?” he rasped. “I—think so.” He moved himself so that his cock slipped out of her. She made a small sound of loss as he eased her back onto her own feet. Moisture seeped down the inside of her naked thighs. Cassandra touched it and looked at her fingers, damp with creamy liquid. That’s his semen. The realization made her catch her breath. She looked at Beau. He still wore his leather jacket and Led Zeppelin T-shirt, though he was naked from the waist down. His cock, long and thick and wet, was still erect. He wanted to do it again. And so did she. Her breasts tingled, her pussy burned, her clit throbbed. Even looking at him made her feel empty and wanting. Thirty seconds after her unbelievable orgasm, after that wild, ruthless rutting, she was ready to try it all over again. What is happening to me? She stared down at herself. Her nightgown was torn to shreds, exposing the front of her naked body. Her breasts were pink from Beau’s facial hair and his mouth and teeth, the nipples hard. Her thighs glistened with fluid. On one of them, there was a red smear.
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With a whoosh, the blue tube opened. Cassandra stumbled out into the vast room on numb legs. She heard Beau swear and follow her. The floor was cold under her feet, the air fresher. The muscles of her legs trembled from the unusual position she’d held them in. She gulped in a deep breath and wiped her hand between her legs again. This time she saw the traces of blood in their mingled juices. “Cassie.” Why did he keep calling her that? And why did the shortening of her name, said in his deep, southern drawl make her skin heat up? Behind her, the sound of a zipper and the jingling of a belt. Then Beau’s hand was on her shoulder, turning her to face him. She gazed up into his face. A stranger’s face. Blue eyes, goatee, a mouth she’d kissed and begged for more. Her throat contracted. “This isn’t a dream, is it?” she said. Beau stared at Cassie. He knew already that this wasn’t a dream. He’d just had the best sex of his entire life and hell, his imagination just wasn’t that good. And even if it had been his fantasy—as if he’d ever fantasized about incredible sex in some sort of weird blue tube thing that sort of looked like the plastic chrysalis the bass player got stuck in in This is Spinal Tap—he wouldn’t have chosen to end it this way. Her big green eyes were troubled as they searched his. The experience was half pain, half pleasure. He felt a connection to her, and not just because they’d had simultaneous orgasms about thirty seconds ago. He liked looking into her eyes. He liked looking at her, period. She was petite and curvy, with small, delicate hands and feet, and a pixie cap of black hair. Her creamy skin was sprinkled with freckles. She was damn cute. And sexy as hell. And worried. And probably hurting. He frowned and reached for her, wanting to hold her, not to screw her but to comfort her.
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And maybe screw her again later. Down, boy. His cock had subsided a little bit—enough to get it back into his pants, anyway—but obviously his libido was still going strong. He could control it now, though. He’d like to think it was the fresher air outside the tube unclouding his brain, but he knew that actually it was remorse. He touched her shoulder and Cassie flinched. She dropped eye contact with him, stepped back, and held her tattered nightgown over her gorgeous breasts. She looked down at the floor as if to find her other clothes. As if she couldn’t wait to cover up in front of him. But her silk slip of a bathrobe was in the glowing tube, which had closed, shutting them out. “Here.” Beau shrugged off his leather jacket and gave it to Cassie. She pulled it over her without looking at him and zipped it up. “Cassie,” he said. “I don’t know what got into me. I think I—hell, I’m sorry I hurt you.” “I asked for it.” Her voice was soft, her cheeks flushed dark red. “Yeah, but I shouldn’t have—you’re bleeding.” She pulled his jacket tighter around her. “I’m okay.” “Are you in pain?” Cassandra shook her head. “I’m fine.” Her voice trembled. Shit. “I am such an asshole. Listen, I really don’t usually grab total strangers and have sex with them up against a wall. Especially if—” He tried to think of a tactful way to say it, but he couldn’t. “You were a virgin, weren’t you?” he asked, wincing at his own words. In answer she turned away from him and started looking around the room. “How do you think we get out of here?” “Damn!” He slammed his fist against the outside of the blue tube. “Cassie, I am so sorry.” “Stop apologizing!” She whirled to face him and from her expression, the loudness of her voice startled her as much as it did him. “I feel bad enough as it is without that.”
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He didn’t say it. But he thought it. This was all his fault. Okay, there was no way he could have known she was a virgin, what with the hot kissing and her hands all over him and her asking him to fuck her in that proper Yankee accent. She was beautiful and passionate and horny, and those attributes just didn’t scream “Beware! Virgin Alert!” in his head. But he’d felt the barrier, the tearing as soon as he’d thrust into her, and he hadn’t stopped. Or not for more than a split second, and then he’d been pumping away at her like a horny hound dog. No finesse, no tenderness. Only lust. Pretty spectacular lust, to say the least. But obviously Cassie had been wanting something more, if she’d still been a virgin until a few minutes ago. “How old are you?” he asked. There. That wasn’t an apology. “Twenty-two.” “Are you—you’re not engaged or anything, are you?” “Do I look like an engaged person?” “No,” he answered truthfully. She looked adorable, and confused, and upset, and too small for his leather jacket. But she didn’t look engaged. “Well, then.” “You’re not like in training to be a nun, though, right?” She glared at him. “I’m a Unitarian.” “Okay. Well, that’s good. I mean, that you haven’t taken any vows of chastity.” “Yes, it’s a considerable relief to me right now.” She spun away from him and started marching in a random direction in the huge room. Her bare feet made padding sounds on the floor, and her bare legs looked pale and vulnerable in the shadows. He jogged after her. “Hey. Wait a second. Don’t run away from me. Neither one of us know where we are. We’ve got to stick together.” She didn’t say anything, just kept on walking, her eyes glued ahead of her. He kept pace with her for several minutes in silence.
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Jesus. This was more awkward than just about anything he’d ever been through before. More awkward than the time his great-aunt Jessie had tried to shoot his father over a game of cards, and that was saying something. “I’ve never met a Unitarian before,” he told her, to break the silence. “My family have always been Baptist.” She stopped. Such an array of emotions fluttered over her fine features that for a minute he thought that she was going to laugh. Instead, she clapped her hands to her face and began to sob. And the damn room chose that moment to dissolve around them.
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Chapter Two
Leandros spun around in the small room. Where was he? And how the hell had he ended up here? His last memories were of finishing up a grueling double-set at the Starlight Hotel and Casino, then making his way back to his apartment and falling into bed. Now, he was…here. He looked around again, taking in the red shag carpeting, the heart-shaped bed with its thick satiny comforter. There was a door off to the left, but when he’d checked it, he’d found only a bathroom. But no exit. In fact, he’d found no exit at all. “I’m trapped in some sort of 70’s prison,” he murmured to himself, running his fingers over the carpeting, trying to find a door or passageway hidden in the crimson, looped yarn. Maybe this was the ultimate punishment for a lounge singer from Vegas. Of course, he wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to warrant such a sentence. This had to be the work of his band members. Although this was pretty damned elaborate, and frankly, while Stig, Bert, and Hagassi were talented musicians, they weren’t that creative. Last year, they’d thrown him a surprise birthday party, which had consisted of a tour of bars and strip clubs. Not exactly imaginative in Las Vegas. Maybe this was the work of his agent. Or wait… “Betty?” he called. He twirled, looking for a hidden camera. “Betty? Are you here?” This could be something his number one fan would do, though he couldn’t imagine how she would manage such a complicated abduction. Betty was determined to have him—she came to every gig, hung around after every show, trying to get his attention. And Leandros was just as determined to avoid her. Yet, he didn’t feel drugged, which she would have to have done to get him here without him knowing. He paused, taking stock of himself. Nope, he definitely didn’t feel drugged. 22
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“Betty!” he shouted louder anyway. He frowned, scanning the room. Was this going to turn into a scene from a Stephen King novel where a fanatical fan kept him prisoner? His heart was pounding under his black satin shirt and white suit coat. Another mystery, as he was certain he hadn’t fallen asleep in his favorite outfit. “Betty,” he called one more time, then suddenly, the room seemed to fade away, dissolving like red cotton candy in a tub of water. He watched in amazement. Betty couldn’t do this. Could she? The walls continued to melt away, and Leandros soon found himself standing in a long white hallway. A figure approached him, blurred and distorted, like a black silhouette against a glaring white light. Not until the form was just a few feet away could he see that it was a woman. She hurried toward him, blinking as though she was experiencing the same blinding light around him. Strange given the hallway appeared normal, with recessed lighting and Muzak filtering through hidden speakers. “Are you the person who brought me to this place?” she demanded as she came to a halt in front of him. “No. And I could ask the same thing of you.” The woman frowned, and he immediately noticed how dark her eyes were, dark and deep and muddled. Another wave of apprehension curled down his spine. She was as confused as he was. Not a good sign. “Where did you come from?” he asked, glancing down the hall, again seeing no exits, just bright, white walls. She didn’t answer for a moment, as if she didn’t quite know how, or if she should tell him. “I was—in bed. Sleeping. And then I suddenly woke up and I was in a bedroom that looked straight out of the 70’s. But it just…” she shivered, “…disappeared.” “Well, even if Betty could do this, she wouldn’t abduct you too.” Or would she? No, Betty wasn’t about to share. She wanted him all to herself. So who had set up this elaborate scheme?
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“Who’s Betty? Who are you? Where are we? Am I dreaming?” The woman knocked hard on the wall, and then shook her head. “No. I can’t be dreaming. This feels too real, and besides, I wouldn’t have dreamed you up in a million years.” Leandros rubbed his face, uncertain whether that last comment was a compliment or an insult. Instead he decided to respond to the first question, as he actually knew the answer. “Betty is someone who I thought might have set up this whole situation.” The woman raised a finely arched brow. “She’s able to create vanishing rooms?” No. Betty was some sort of a waitress. Not a person who—made disappearing rooms. The woman spun, glaring at the white walls, her shoulder-length hair swirling around her face and her dress swirling around her legs. “Where the hell are we?” she shouted, her voice laced with both frustration and panic. Leandros understood both of those emotions, but he didn’t reveal his own concern. After all, there had to be a reasonable answer. He stepped forward and caught the woman’s hand. The woman’s gaze immediately dropped to where they touched. Leandros noticed how small her hand looked in his. How tall he felt next to her. She wasn’t his type. She didn’t even seem to like him. But there was…something. She finally glanced up from their hands, and her eyes locked with his. Brown eyes like strong coffee. As dark as his own. “Do you think we’re in danger?” she asked. He stared at her for a moment, distracted by the pinkness of her lips. Then he cleared his throat and said, “Nah. This is a practical joke. When you work with the entertainers on the Vegas strip, this sort of thing just happens.” Of course, nothing like this had ever happened to him. Or anyone else he knew. But he continued on with more determination, “This is probably the doing of Athan the Incredible. He’s quite the magician.” Although Leandros had only seen him make a
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few doves and a woman from Jersey disappear. He hadn’t made whole rooms vanish. He may have emptied a few, though. “But I’m not even from Vegas.” Her voice shook, and both fear and protectiveness tightened his chest. He couldn’t say why. He managed to keep his voice, calm, conversational, the same tone he used on stage. “Oh yeah? Where are you from?” “Boston. I’m not an entertainer either. I’m an interior decorator.” Leandros glanced down at her clothing. She wore an expensive-looking black cocktail dress. Narrow straps revealed the smooth, golden skin of her shoulders and the full, flirty hemline showed off her shapely legs. Hardly the clothes he imagined a decorator wearing. He pictured paint-spattered coveralls. She looked more like a glamorous 50’s starlet than a woman who hung wallpaper. Her feet were bare, her toenails painted cherry red. His gaze wandered to her free hand expecting to see a pair of high heels dangled from her fingers. No. But yet again he was struck by the image of a 50’s actress, strolling down the beach, shoes swinging from her fingertips, water lapping over her cherry-polished toes, a wide smile warming her dark eyes. But she wasn’t smiling. She was staring at him, assessing him, as if she needed to believe he had an answer for this weird situation. “How did you decide to get into decorating?” he asked conversationally. She blinked. “What does that have to do with being transported to some weird place in the middle of the night with a stranger?” “Humor me,” he said in his low, husky stage voice, the voice that put people at ease while he was entertaining them. “I—I like to help families have homes they can love, where they can make a life. There’s nothing more important than a sense of security and well-being.” Her words struck him, as much as her appearance. Security and well-being. He’d had plenty of that growing up, stiflingly so. He didn’t find it so important. Security. Home. Those words were synonyms for “boring” in his book. But he didn’t say that.
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“I’m Leandros,” he said instead. Her gaze dropped back to their hands, still intertwined. He noted how her slender fingers felt perfect, natural against his palm. “Eve Green.” She pulled her hand away from his and held it tightly to her side. Leandros gestured ahead of them, down the corridor. “Let’s figure out what’s going on here.” As they walked, again their surroundings started to blur. He blinked, wondering if he had been drugged after all. Then Eve gasped, and he realized she must be seeing the same thing. “It’s like when the Six Million Dollar Man ran through the avalanche,” Eve murmured. She stumbled, and Leandros reached out to steady her. She only let him touch her for the briefest of moments before she pulled away. “Totally,” he agreed. Suddenly the rolling, disintegrating illusion stopped, and they were surrounded by darkness and a faint blue light. “Oop,” Eve breathed, coming to an abrupt halt. Slowly, she reached toward the blue light. Her fingers met a clear wall. “It’s some sort of glass room,” he said, reaching out to touch the cool glass. “It’s not a room. It’s a tube.” She trailed her hand around the circumference until she was back facing him. He could feel the heat of her body in the narrow space. “A tube with no door.” They both looked upward at the ceiling, which seemed to disappear into blackness. “Don’t worry. There has to be some sort of explanation,” he assured her. “You really think so, huh?” Obviously she wasn’t any more convinced than he was. “Yes. I know this is weird, but…” A loud hiss from overhead stopped his words. A rush of air hit his still upturned face. The blast was scented with something vague and elusively familiar.
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But even before his mind could try to name the scent, his body reacted. Perspiration broke out on his skin. Need ripped through him in snapping electric waves. His cock engorged, painful and throbbing against the material of his pants. “What the—” “Fuck,” Eve finished for him, and his gaze dropped to meet hers. She peered up at him, desire clear on her features, in the heaviness of her lids, in the small “o” of her mouth. Her hands found the front of his shirt, sliding up over the satiny material, leaving a burning path in their wake. “That’s what I want. I want you to fuck me,” she told him. For just the briefest moment, surprise filled him, but it was strangled by the coils of desire snaking through his limbs. He pulled her to him, pressing his mouth to her pink lips. She tasted warm and spicy, and very, very willing. He groaned and deepened the kiss, his teeth nipping the softness of her bottom lip. His tongue swept past those soft lips, tasting her, devouring her. She whimpered, and in the back of his mind he worried he was being too aggressive. Then she pressed him back against the glass wall and sank her hands into his hair, taking control of the kiss. Her tongue raspy and hot against his, her teeth nipping at him, her body surprisingly strong. He groaned as his need flared. He stroked his hands over the silky, warm skin of her shoulders, down the narrow curve of her back. For few moments they continued to consume each other, but it wasn’t enough. He had to touch more of her, taste more of her. His mouth trailed open-mouthed kisses down her neck and over her chest as his fingers found the zipper at back of her dress. He needed to feel her bare, hot flesh pressed against him. Around him. “I want you,” he told her. “I need you naked, Eve. I’m going to fuck you so hard.” The words coming out of his mouth made his hands shake. Shit, he’d never been so out of control, so fast. And two minutes ago, this woman hadn’t been able to bear holding his hand. Her fingers began to tug at his shirt, pulling it from the waistband of his trousers.
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“I’ve never felt like this before,” she gasped, her movements frantic, her eyes wide with passion. “I need to touch you. Jesus, I don’t even know you. I don’t want to touch you. And I’m going to die if I don’t.” She shoved at his jacket, and he walked them backwards enough for her to push the garment off his shoulders. Then her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt. She fumbled with them, until she made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat and pulled at the open neck. Buttons clattered to the floor around them. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to—you’re so beautiful.” Her hands stroked his chest and he could feel her fingers trembling, the heat of her palms. This should probably be funny. It was unbearably sexy. Wild, out of control. Puzzling. “Touch me, sweetheart,” he begged, and he had never begged any woman before. Her lips pressed to his bare chest, her tongue flicking over his hardened nipples, and he forgot everything but their lust. He moaned and fumbled with the small metal tab of the zipper at the back of her dress. His whole body shook. Frustrated, he gave up on the zipper and gathered her skirt up in his hands, bunching the material around her waist until he could see the narrow scrap of black lace covering her sweet little mound. “Eve,” he murmured, wanting to fall to his knees and bury his face between her thighs. He could smell the spice of her perfume, the musky heat of her arousal. He could taste her in his imagination, and it made his mouth water. He stroked her through the lace of her panties. She gasped and arched against his hand. “You’re so hot and wet,” he whispered against her skin as he nipped her earlobe. “I can feel it right through your panties. You want my cock inside you, don’t you?” She groaned and it was a sound of total desperation, total abandon. His cock pulsed, responding to the animal need in her voice. “Give it to me,” she said. “I want you to shove inside me and fuck me as hard as you can. I want your cock to fill me up and I want you to come inside me and I want your hands on me. I want everything, Leandros.”
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He nudged the lace out of the way and stroked a finger down the moist lips of her pussy. She panted as his finger skimmed back up, finding her taut little clit. He pressed and swirled until she cried out and her fingers dug into his back. “You want it from me, baby?” Some small bit of sanity, way back in his mind, made him ask it. “You. Now.” She shoved her hips toward him, and that primal action swept away any little bit of control that he had. He had to be buried deep inside her. “I’m going to give you the best fuck of your life,” he vowed. It was going to be the best fuck of his life, that was for sure. Fast and furious with this inexplicable woman. He pushed her back against the wall and yanked at her panties. The delicate material ripped, and that sound turned him on even more. Thankfully, he had more success with his own zipper than Eve’s. He unfastened his fly and he pushed his pants down. Eve remained sprawled against the wall, watching him with hungry, hooded eyes. Her dress was still rucked up at her waist. Her skin was flushed and her legs spread. A fifties starlet begging to be ravished, driven to orgasm, a pin-up dream come true. Her smell, essence of Eve, warm pussy and spicy skin, pulsed through his blood and spiked his hunger. “Damn,” she breathed as his cock sprang free, jutting up against his stomach. Her hand brushed down the underside, tracing the sensitive ridge, and Leandros hissed. “I need that big, hard dick inside me.” “Baby, I want that more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” He moved back to her, his mouth capturing hers as he fought with the material of her skirt again. And to think he’d earlier found this dress attractive, now it was just— “This damned dress is annoying,” Eve muttered roughly against his lips. She yanked the skirt up, and rubbed against him. The smoothness of her belly caressed over the length of his cock, and he groaned. With the dress out of the way, he caught the soft globes of her ass and lifted her so the curls of her sex nestled his cock, instead. Her legs came up to wrap around his hips, and she rubbed against him in return, her movements wanton and demanding. His cock
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slipped past her damp curls to the slick flesh of her labia hidden just beyond. He moved his hips, rubbing her harder with his rigid length. “God, yes,” Eve cried, gripping his shoulders, her nails pressing into his skin. “Now, Leandros. Fuck me, I need to come.” “I can’t go slow,” he told her, biting her shoulder, just inside the narrow strap of her dress. “No. Don’t go slow,” she replied frantically. “I don’t want slow.” “Then hold on baby, because this is going to be one hell of a ride.” He positioned himself, the head of his cock at her entrance. With one smooth stroke, he entered her, pinioning her to the wall with his chest, his hips and his cock. “You’re so hot,” he groaned and began to move inside her, surging into her repeatedly, fiercely. She clawed his back, writhing against him, clenching him with her tight pussy, begging him with wordless cries to keep up his frenzied thrusts. Her inner muscles milked him, bringing him toward orgasm in a headlong rush, too fast. Then she tensed under him, straining against him. “Oh God, Leandros, I’m coming,” she shouted, and he felt her spasm around him. He drove into her one more time and felt his own orgasm tear through him, violent and mind-blowing. They remained locked together, her arms clutching his neck, her forehead against his chest. The only sound was their uneven breaths. He pressed a cheek against the top of her head, surprised by the tenderness that mingled with the satisfaction. Hell, he wasn’t completely unfamiliar with spontaneous sex. He was a lounge singer, after all. But this had been different from any hook up he’d ever had. Even without the vanishing rooms and doorless glowing tube. He’d never totally lost control like that. Never. And never had he remained hard after a heart-stopping orgasm. But he was. He was hard and ready to screw this woman, this stranger, some more. He felt her pussy clenching around him, still eager. Her hands clutched him to her. He could move once, withdraw and plunge in, and they’d be on that road to ecstasy all over again.
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But instead he asked, “Are you okay?” Eve didn’t answer for a moment. She couldn’t. What had they just done? What had she done? Maybe this wasn’t real? It was a dream. Or a fantasy. Or… Leandros shifted, and she could feel him deep inside her. He’d orgasmed spectacularly, and yet, he was still hard, still filling her and stretching her. And she loved it. She absolutely loved it. More than she had loved anything before. Or anyone. She couldn’t have imagined this, or him. “Ohhhh, shit,” she whispered. Her voice was shaky with shock. And with pleasure. No. This was wrong, wrong in so many ways. She peeked up at Leandros’s beautiful face, his dark, almost black, smoldering eyes, the wavy, golden brown hair that just brushed his broad shoulders, the slight dimple in his chin. He was perfect, pure temptation, pure sex. He shifted again, angling his head so he could see her face. His dark eyes held hers, his penis pulsed in her vagina. Her vagina pulsed in response. “I’ve never been this horny,” he said as if it were a sin. “Neither have I,” she said. In her case, it was a sin. And yet she still wanted him. She was still joined with him. The things she’d said… She wanted to say them all over again. “I have to move, baby,” he whispered. “Yes.” It was both agreement and surrender. He eased out of her, only to enter her again. Out, then in again. Each stroke reigniting her lust for this man. Each thrust making her pussy slicker and hotter and achier for the release only he could give her. The angle of her legs and the position of his hips caused him to grind the coarse curls surrounding his sex against her already over-sensitized clit…a sensual torture. And when he would rear back, she whimpered wanting that torment again. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t resist this, couldn’t resist him. Even though it was against everything she believed she was, here she was, crushed against the wall of a blue tube, with his glorious cock pounding in and out of her. It was as if all of her past,
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all of her plans, had dissolved away with the hallway, and there was nothing left but Leandros. His body. His breath. His eyes, meeting hers, as much of a turn-on as his dick. Even more. No. She couldn’t look into his eyes. What their bodies were doing was enough. It was too intense, too wonderful to stand. She dropped her mouth to his broad chest, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin. The flavor and the rich masculine scent of him only served to arouse her more. And still he plunged into her, rocking her toward orgasm with deep, even strokes of his hips. “That’s right, baby,” he growled, thrusting and thrusting, relentless, exciting. “You feel so damn good.” “Deeper,” she said. “More.” She grabbed his ass with her hands and pulled him to her, flexed her hips against him. He entered her very hard, very deep, right up into the center of her, and she gasped. He pushed up her chin with one hand so that his gaze locked with hers, his dark eyes heavy-lidded, sexy. “Did I hurt you?” She shook her head. “No. You feel perfect.” Too perfect, though she didn’t say that. “Don’t stop. Please fuck me with that big dick, Leandros. Hard as you can. I can take it all.” He entered her deeply again, and this time he caught her gasp in his mouth. Then he was consuming her with his mouth and his cock. Ravaging her with both. Driving her over the edge, further and further from her thoughts, headlong into bliss. Instead being slower to come, as she would have expected especially after their first volatile union, she was surprised to discover her release was building quickly. Too quickly. She was liquid heat, he was solid fire. She felt like she was going to combust. “Shit,” Leandros growled, “this is going too fast.” She nodded, amazed he was feeling the same way, that he, too, didn’t want this to be over, wanted to stay here locked together forever. He tried to slow his pace, entering her just as deeply, but with excruciating slowness. Inch by inch she felt him sliding into her. The new speed didn’t help. It only nudged her
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closer to the edge rather than shoving her. More subtle, more thrilling. Every nerve ending touched and stroked toward orgasm. “Eve, I wanted this to be slower, better. But I…” He groaned. “I can’t control it.” She shook her head. “I don’t want control. I’ve had enough control. I want to come. Make me come, Leandros.” He shuddered with desire, and moved, and she couldn’t speak any more. She was too close, too overcome by his soft lips molding to hers, by his strong muscles undulating under her hands, and by his hard cock pounding into her throbbing pussy. Her orgasm hit like a match thrown into a tin of paint thinner, the flames flashed, intense and obliterating, until only searing release remained. She heard Leandros cry out, his voice rough and guttural. And again, they collapsed against each other, gasping for air. They stayed that way for several moments, until Leandros swore. “I can’t believe this. I’m getting hard again.” Eve lifted her head, staring up at him in amazement. His heart hammered, and her thighs were wet with their mingled come, but she could feel his length growing inside her. Was he normally like this? No, his own words said this was unusual. The whole experience was unusual. To say the least. She was going to hell. She winced slightly as he slid out of her. He didn’t miss her reaction. “Eve, I hurt you.” She shook her head. “No. No, you didn’t. I’m just not used to…” She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t used to that kind of passion. But she couldn’t say that out loud. It somehow seemed even more disloyal than her actions had been. Of course, she’d had no problem telling him to fuck her. Talking about his big dick. She looked away from him, unable to meet his intense gaze. But he caught her chin with gentle fingers. “Eve—”
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A noise like an airtight seal being broken filled the tube and suddenly the walls separated. Cooler air wafted around them, and suddenly Eve’s head seemed clearer. She pulled the fresh air deep into her lungs. Then she looked back to Leandros. “We’d better get out of here.” He nodded, but she had the feeling he wanted to say more.
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Chapter Three
“Spectacular.” This was the happiest that Lubda had ever seen Nisom. “It’s working perfectly. The humans will perform exactly as we want them to. We are going to be rich!” Nisom’s appendages flung up into the air in exaltation. “If only my parent could see me now!” Andyr sat in front of the viewer, eyes narrowed in concentration. “The pheromone mixture may have to be adjusted.” “Why? That’s exactly what we wanted,” said Nisom. “They were going at it like crazed worker droids.” “Not precisely. The mixture was so strong that I don’t think they could control their actions. It’s fine, if we want mindless rutting all of the time. But it’s not going to be effective if we want them to experiment with positions and techniques, or to respond to the scenarios we place them in.” Lubda nodded. “I think it was too strong.” Nisom rounded on Lubda, as if Lubda had been the only one to express a differing opinion. Typical. “You’re so critical all of the time. What do you think was wrong with that? It was a great show.” “Yes, it was. But the humans were distressed afterwards. I think we can afford to be more subtle.” “Subtlety might introduce more variants,” agreed Andyr, and Lubda said an internal thanks for support, even if it wasn’t for exactly the right reasons. “Did you notice that both couples had intercourse facing each other against the wall of the tube, with some of their clothing torn and some of it intact? Even the vocabulary they used was remarkably
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similar in both situations. Interesting, considering they are all four strangers to each other. It suggests a qualitative constancy across Earthling sexual behavior.” “The Cassandra woman and the Beau man performed a stimulation of mammary glands,” Nisom said. “That was different. And the Eve woman and the Leandros man had two separate instances of climax.” “They seemed to have more expertise than the other two,” Andyr said. “Although as I said, I believe that finesse was overridden by our pheromone mix.” “Beau has had experience, but Cassandra had never copulated before,” Lubda said quietly. “This was the reason I chose her for the experiment. I wonder if I made a mistake. I think her inexperience was a problem, though I had not foreseen it. Perhaps humans place an importance on the initial encounter.” “Well, she’s done it now,” Nisom said. “And she’ll be doing a lot more of it. She seemed to enjoy it.” “While it was going on, maybe,” Lubda said, and felt sad. “I think we may be doing these Earthlings a disservice.” Nisom exclaimed a taboo word that slandered Lubda’s ancestor. “You can forget any moral qualms. Why should we feel any? We have examined the disks about human sexual behavior. Andyr, would you care to sum up our findings?” “Earthlings will engage in any sexual encounter that is likely to give them pleasure, and they will engage in it on the flimsiest of excuses,” Andyr said with the tone of one reciting information long since learned by rote. “Pleasure for Earthlings manifests itself as a varying length of build-up leading to one or more climaxes, the whole process of which may be repeated until physical exhaustion prevents further action. Although Earthling sexuality revolves primarily around the formation of couples, our own viewing suggests these pairs are mutable and likely to be switched at any time, and that combinations of three or more Earthlings are also desirable. There are two genders, and interaction between different genders is by far the most prolific, but interaction between same-gendered Earthlings appears to be as pleasurable as different-gendered pairing.”
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“—And that’s only half of it,” interrupted Nisom. “Where in there do you find morality, Lubda?” “I fear you are experiencing a common failing in those who study alien cultures,” Andyr said regretfully. “You are projecting your own cultural ideas onto others.” “I really saw it,” Lubda said stubbornly. “Leandros, for example. He gave Eve touches that were not sexually stimulating in any readily definable way. And both couples stopped copulating when they were physically able to carry on, when the pheromones were still stimulating their nervous systems. There must be some reason for that behavior.” “Projection. As Andyr says.” The quills on Lubda’s neck began to raise themselves in anger. “Interesting. Why, then, is Cassandra crying while we speak? Why did Beau punch the tube for no obvious reason? Why is Eve not finishing her sentences to Leandros? I believe there is something more.” Andyr finished a complicated series of calculations on the computer and turned to face the other two Odilians. “I have recalibrated the dosages to a lesser concentration. I recommend we try this formula as soon as feasible, in a place that is more conducive to varied behavior than the tube.” “First, they need to talk,” said Lubda. “Talk!” exploded Nisom. “Talking will not accomplish anything.” Lubda could tell the subtext in Nisom’s words: The humans talking will be even less worthwhile than talking with you two useless Odilians. “Regardless, I believe it will be valuable to the Earthlings’ morale for them to interact as a foursome. You can test your new mixture on them afterwards, Andyr.” “Fine.” Nisom’s voice was gruff. “They’ll talk, and then we’ll see another show. And this time will be different than the time before. But only because of hormones and pleasure, Lubda. Not because of your ridiculous notions of emotion and morality.”
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Cassandra saw a couch and headed straight for it. It had appeared out of nowhere, but as that was the least weird thing that had happened to her so far today, she was inclined to trust the furniture. For now, anyway. She sank onto its cushions and pulled Beau’s leather jacket around her as tightly as she could, curling up into a ball. The red couch cushion sinking down told her that Beau had sat next to her. “Hey,” she heard his gentle, lazy voice. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.” His kind words just made her cry harder. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Hey,” he said again. “Darlin’. Stop. I don’t have any tissues.” Cassandra didn’t need a tissue, she needed a good full hour session with her therapist. Or at the very least one of her Chicken Soup for the Soul books. Although the books couldn’t be that great. They’d never prepared her for this. For…Beau. And irrational, irresistible sexual longing. “You—were you staying a virgin for somebody special?” She felt Beau’s arm around her shoulders, strong and protective. She could smell his clean scent along with the leather of his jacket. And an undertone of the musky scent of the sex they’d shared. “Do you mean do I have a boyfriend?” Cassandra said. “Well, yeah I guess that’s what I meant. I also sort of meant do I have to worry about somebody beating me up once we’re out of this place,” he added. She could tell it was meant to be a joke, but she couldn’t muster a smile. Instead she hiccupped. “I was waiting for somebody special,” she said. “But I didn’t know him yet. And now, maybe…I never will.” Suddenly a door on the far wall opened. Another door that hadn’t been there moments before. Beau jumped to his feet, and Cassandra looked up, the sobs startled out of her.
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Through her tears, Cassandra saw a very tall man and a slender woman in a black cocktail dress. Aside from a few wrinkles in her dress, the other woman looked lovely. Cassandra looked down at her—no, Beau’s leather jacket. God, she was a total mess. “Are you all right?” the woman asked. Cassandra nodded vigorously, which just made her nose run. There’s no excuse for bad manners or for not being dressed properly, she could hear her mother’s voice saying. She sat up straight. “Hi,” she sniffed and tried to smile a welcome. The well-dressed woman came closer. “My name is Cass,” she paused as she almost said ‘Cassie’. Why would she nearly use a stranger’s nickname for her rather than her given name? “My name is Cassandra,” she managed to say with only the slightest hiccup on the end of her name. “And this is B—Beau.” Tears filled her eyes again. Eve immediately felt sympathy with the pathetic woman on the sofa. What had happened to her? To them? From the wounded and helpless expression on Beau’s face, Eve had a feeling it wasn’t good. She also had a feeling it might be the same not-good thing that was happening to her and Leandros. Though not-good wasn’t quite the right adjective. More like not-morally-defensible. It had certainly been good. Eve crossed the room to sit down beside Cassandra. “My name’s Eve. Eve Green. Can I get you…” She didn’t know what. She didn’t even know where the hell she was. The woman was wearing a big leather jacket, and not much else. She looked like she’d been crying for some time. Cassandra looked down at the leather jacket as if she’d noticed Eve looking at it. Then she glanced at her dress, longing in her green eyes. “Lovely dress.” “Thanks,” Eve said. This experience got more surreal by the second. Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t compliments on her clothing. And why she was wearing this dress anyway was a complete mystery. She’d bought it for a New Year’s Eve party and then never wore it. The dress had seemed too much, too glamorous, once she’d gotten it home.
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But she studied Cassandra’s face again, and saw that the woman wasn’t really talking about her dress. She was trying to make small talk, trying to be friendly and polite. Sort of like how Leandros had asked her about her career, before she’d begged him to fuck her, over and over again. No. Not going there. “Hey, do you guys know where we are?” Beau asked. He had a southern twang. He sat back beside Cassandra. And while the leather-clad woman didn’t move away from him, Eve sensed rather than felt her body tensing. “We don’t have a clue,” Leandros said. “Do you?” “Nope,” said Beau. His voice sounded laid-back, but it had a tension in it that matched Cassandra’s. Eve started to ask Cassandra if she wanted to talk to her alone. To see if something terrible had happened. If Beau had done something to hurt her. Then Cassandra glanced over at Beau, her green eyes filled with distress and…not fear. Cassandra looked at Beau as if she wanted to do nothing more than curl against him. But her posture remained painfully straight. Eve gazed over at Leandros, who still stood near the open door, probably because he was afraid it would disappear if he left it. She knew the same distressed yet longing expression filled her own eyes. She hadn’t been able to glance at him since they left that tube without both emotions tightening her chest. Along with a big helping of guilt. Once again the thought crossed her mind that maybe these two people had been through the same sort of thing she and Leandros had. As if he could read her mind, Leandros asked, “Do you two know each other?” Cassandra and Beau both stiffened. “Um,” Beau started. “No,” Cassandra said. “We don’t. We just met.”
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“Leandros,” Eve gestured to him with her head, “and I just met too.” She gave Cassandra a significant look, hoping the woman would understand. But Cassandra just sniffed again and looked down at her lap. What had happened to her and Leandros wasn’t as obvious; she was still fully dressed, except for her panties, of course. And while Leandros’s shirt was ripped, he looked like the sort of man who wore open shirts on a regular basis. Vegas entertainer, she remembered. He probably dressed the way he was right now all the time. If he didn’t, he should. She shot a quick peek at his chest. Even now her fingers itched to touch him. And oddly, her dress that she’d considered too much for a New Year’s Eve party, somehow felt right on her in this strange place with this sexy man. Then she realized she was staring openly at his muscled chest and the guilt came flooding back. Leandros caught Eve’s appreciative look that quickly dissolved to a look of disgust. He frowned. In the tube, they’d seemed to get along fine. The hot, sweaty, screaming-out-in-orgasm kind of fine. But since they’d left, she’d barely spoken two words to him. And looked at him even less. He realized the situation was beyond weird. He’d seen a lot in Vegas, but nothing like this. Still. He figured they had to stick together. This wasn’t the time to shut down. He glanced at Cassandra; her eyes were puffy and red, her skin deathly pale. Well, at least Eve hadn’t lost it totally. “So where do you think we are?” Leandros asked Beau, the most likely person in the room to actually answer him. “Well, best I can figure is we’re in some sort of…” Beau trailed off. “Well, I don’t know.” “I think we’re in a spaceship,” Leandros said. Three pairs of eyes stared at him. Beau began nodding slowly. “I can see that. Dissolving walls, big rooms, blue tu—” He cut off, glancing swiftly at Cassandra. “I mean, other freaky shit.” “Either that or we’ve been kidnapped as sex slaves,” Leandros stated.
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Cassandra whimpered. “Leandros,” Eve said in a tone full of warning. “It could be. The sex industry has gotten pretty high tech. I saw a show about it on The Learning Channel. Or maybe Entertainment TV. I forget.” “You r—really think we could be sold as sex slaves?” Cassandra gaped at Leandros. “No,” Eve said. “No. They don’t abduct people and make them have sex with each other.” Then her mouth snapped shut and Leandros realized that she’d said more than she intended. So that was it. She was ashamed that she’d had sex with him. He felt himself flushing with anger. “There are worse things in the world that could happen, Eve,” he snapped. Beau looked back and forth between Leandros and Eve. Suddenly this whole uptight atmosphere in this room was making more sense. “So you guys had sex too?” he asked. Cassie gasped, and Beau cursed himself yet again for saying such a stupid thing. He’d as good as told these people that he and Cassie had had sex. And that was a sensitive topic for her right now. “Yes, we did,” Leandros said. “And it was great.” Beau caught the angry look Eve threw at Leandros. Seemed he wasn’t the only one being Mr. Stupid Mouth. Cassie began crying in earnest. “We’re trapped in a den of ill-repute.” “Hey,” Leandros said. “My reputation is still just fine. Right, Eve?” “No one was doubting your abilities in a glowing tube, Leandros. Although your abilities in normal conversation are dubious,” Eve said coolly. Leandros wheeled around and walked out the door. “Whoa, that was harsh, man,” Beau said into the sudden total silence. Eve stood, biting her lip, and followed Leandros out of the room. Beau started to call after them, to tell them it was probably a bad idea to leave this main room. But given that the room could just dissolve at any moment, he supposed it didn’t really matter. And he needed to talk to Cassie alone.
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“Please stop crying,” he said to her. “You’re making me feel really bad.” “It’s not making me feel great,” she wept. “So stop.” To his surprise, she did. “I hate crying in front of people,” she sniffled, and used one of the tatters of her silk nightgown to wipe her nose. “It seems so rude.” Even with red-rimmed eyes and a runny nose, she was beautiful. And in many ways, as alien to him as this whole place was. “Why should you care about being rude?” he asked. Her eyes widened. “What do you mean? Why shouldn’t I?” “Babe, you have to look out for yourself. If people think you’re rude, screw ’em.” Her expression was shocked, shocked enough for him to reconsider his long-standing philosophy. “But what do I know? Hell, I work in a garage in Sawyer’s Cross, Alabama. I’m not exactly the king of the universe.” “You’re fine the way you are,” she whispered, and then her eyes clouded over and she sat up straight again. “It’s just that I was always brought up to be polite. Act properly. You know.” “I don’t,” he said. “But I’ll take your word for it.” He reached over and drew his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the trace of tears. “So you’ve got a good family and a good home and a good upbringing and you expect to get married and do the same thing all over again, huh?” She straightened up even straighter. “You make that sound like it’s wrong.” “Oh no,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not wrong. If it’s what you want to do, it’s right. I’m just trying to say—” What was he trying to say? He couldn’t be proposing an alternative way of life to her. Not after about an hour and a half, and a fuck in a blue tube. “I just mean that if you think about it, I haven’t messed things up for you. You can still have everything you wanted to have.”
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Cassie actually launched herself off of the couch. He could tell she was upset because she didn’t even make an effort to cover herself with his jacket, and he was treated to a view of her cleavage. “How do you know that what I wanted to have is the right thing? I wanted you, and you don’t—” Her voice faltered. She swallowed. “And you don’t even want me back.” He goggled. “What makes you think that?” “You keep on apologizing for having sex with me. Like it was some sort of mistake. And it was a mistake, I’m not supposed to behave that way, but I thought you enjoyed it.” Beau leaped to his feet, too. “Enjoyed it? It blew my mind. Christ, Cassie, I wanted you so much that I couldn’t stop even when I discovered that you were a virgin. I would’ve done you right there again if you hadn’t been upset. I don’t think you have to worry about my not wanting you.” “Really?” she said. “You couldn’t stop? Like I drove you crazy with lust?” “You got it.” He saw her forehead furrow as she thought. “I’ve never driven anyone crazy with lust before. I didn’t think I was that sort of person.” “I’d say you are.” “Are you being driven crazy by lust right now?” The curiosity and hope on her face made his heart lift. Beau smiled. He closed the distance between them and cupped her face in his hands. “I think I could probably manage that,” he said, and kissed her. Her lips were salty with her tears. He kissed her tenderly, because he hadn’t had a chance to do that yet. Enjoying the feel of her mouth, the closeness of their bodies. He liked how she was shorter than him and how her little hand came up to rest on his chest. It wasn’t an all-out tonguefest like their first kiss. It was slow and gentle. Beau let one of his hands drop to her waist and creep inside his jacket and her torn nightgown to rest on the naked curve of her hip. Cassie made a soft sound against his mouth and moved closer to him. Her skin was soft and hot, her breasts a tantalizing pressure on his chest. Beau remembered what her
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nipples had tasted like and he felt his blood rush to his groin. He tightened his grip a little on her hip and pulled her more firmly against him. She broke their kiss and looked into his face. “Is that—” she started, and blushed. She arched her hips a bit more and his cock lengthened to what he was sure were obvious proportions. “Do you have an erection? Is that what I can feel?” Cassie asked. “Yup.” He smiled at her perplexed curiosity. “Just from kissing? That’s all it took for you to get hard?” “Kissing you, holding you, thinking about you. That’ll do it all right.” “Does it hurt?” Beau threw his head back and laughed. “It’s—well, it’s demanding attention. But it doesn’t hurt, no.” He let his hand slide up the curve of her waist to her ribcage just below her breast. “Does it hurt you to be turned on?” He saw her thinking about it, assessing her own body’s feelings. “It’s a little—achy. But in a good way. It doesn’t hurt.” “Are you turned on now?” He skimmed the bottom of her breast with his fingertips, and heard her gasp. “Yes.” “Just from kissing and touching? That’s all it takes?” “Well, you’re beautiful.” She touched his face, tracing his features, and then ran her fingers through his hair. “I love your hair, too. It’s funny because I never would’ve thought that you were my type, at all. But you are.” Beau couldn’t help smiling wryly at that. Nope, he wasn’t her type. He guessed her usual type wore button-down shirts and chinos and had a membership at the local country club and a degree from an Ivy League university. She was out of his league; her accent, her innocence, her sensitivity, the way she thought about manners, everything about her told him that. Even her damn name. If she’d chosen the guy she was going to lose her cherry to it probably wouldn’t have been him in
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a million years. He remembered how she’d looked at him the first time she’d seen him. She’d been shit scared. People like him didn’t exist in her world. They pumped your gas and fixed your car and then they disappeared. She was turned on by him. But underneath the attraction, she was using him to make herself feel better about what they’d done. He thought he should probably care about that more, but right now he didn’t. Partly because he wanted to make her feel better about what they’d done, himself. And partly because he was turned on by her. A lot. And he couldn’t wait to have sex with her again, in a little less of a rush this time. Beau swept her off her feet up into his arms. He got a handful of naked thigh, the bottom of her butt brushed against the top of his erection through his clothes, and her breasts were a whole lot closer to his face, especially when she wrapped her arms around his neck. He strode across the room to one of the blank walls. “I could do with a door appearing here that leads to a bedroom,” he said, and he was only slightly surprised when a door materialized in the wall. “Nice one,” he said, and kicked it open. They were in the shag carpeting room again with the heart-shaped bed. If this was a spaceship, these aliens certainly had some weird-ass ideas about decorating. He crossed to the bed, put her down on it, and then lay down next to her, leaning his weight on his elbow. She was smiling up at him, but her eyelashes were clumped together and the tip of her nose was still pink from crying. He kissed her again, letting his hair fall around their faces. This time her mouth parted under his and he touched her lips with his tongue. When her tongue met his, tentatively, he groaned and shifted so his leg was over hers, his hard cock pressed against her hip. Cassie threaded her hands through his hair and held him to her. She was some kisser—a little shy, but she made up for it with eagerness. She bit lightly at his lower lip and he did the same, taking his time to explore her.
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When she broke off the kiss, her lips were red and slightly swollen. “I’ve never kissed a guy with facial hair before,” she said. “I like it.” “How much have you done before?” he asked her. “With other guys?” He liked how she considered his questions so carefully before answering. “I guess I’ve gotten to—oh, what do you call it? Second base.” Beau wanted to laugh; he hadn’t heard that expression since he was about fourteen. But he didn’t. “What’s second base these days?” “Clothes on,” she answered promptly. “Except I let one guy touch my breasts. I think he had an orgasm, too, in his pants, but he was too embarrassed to tell me.” Man. Those country club boys were red-hot lovers, all right. He heard a sudden sound, like the hiss of air, and he looked up and around, trying to see where it had come from. It sounded sort of like air conditioning coming on, or someone spraying an aerosol. But he didn’t see any vents, or anybody with a can of hairspray. The sound was familiar, though. And as he breathed he caught a scent of something familiar, too. His cock throbbed in his pants, with more urgency than before. He was so hard that he did hurt a little now, from the restriction of his jeans. Being this close to Cassie on a bed flashed an image in his mind of the two of them in that blue tube, her legs around his hips, his dick sinking deep into her wet pussy. He looked down at her; his leather jacket was open and he could see part of her breasts, her soft belly, her pale naked thighs. One of her erect nipples poked through the tattered silk of her nightgown. A fine sight. But not enough. “I think we need to get naked,” he said. She nodded, licking her lips. “I think you should know that I am on the birth control pill,” she said, in such a matter-of-fact voice that Beau nearly laughed. She evidently thought his amusement was because of her sexual inexperience, because she sat up and added, “I think it’s a good idea to be prepared for any eventuality.”
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“I surely agree with that, darlin’,” he said. “Is this your way of telling me you want to have sex with me again?” “It is.” She took a deep breath, and he was momentarily distracted by the movement of her tits. “Though I—it’s probably too late to ask, but I always promised myself I would ask about—whether my partner was—safe.” Beau nodded. “You can trust me, Cassie. I promise.” “I do trust you,” she said. “I’m not sure why, but I do. And I want you, too.” She sighed a sound of such pure desire that his cock twitched. He helped her remove his leather jacket, and then he pulled her nightgown up over her head. He stared at her nude body, taking in the length of her legs, the curve of her belly and hips, the black silky hair covering her sex. And her breasts, full and tipped with rosy nipples. His mouth began to water. “You are beautiful,” he vowed, and pushed her gently back into the bed. Then he let his hands wander all over her, learning her curves: belly button, indentation of her waist, the way her hips filled his hands perfectly. He felt down the smooth length of her thighs and then back up. Deliberately, he avoided her crotch, skimming around to the back to lightly knead the cheeks of her ass. Cassie wriggled in his grip. “Please, Beau,” she moaned. “I want to have sex with you.” He shook his head. “I want you too. But I’m not rushing this time. I want to get to know your breasts a lot better, for a start.” She opened her mouth, and then closed it, a flush moving across her face and upper chest. Finally she nodded. “I can go along with that.” “Good.” He took one of her breasts in his hand. It was pliant and warm, a handful of heaven. He squeezed it, caressed it, let his thumb rasp over her hard nipple. She gasped, and he could see her nipple tighten even more into a crinkly, delicious pink peak. His dick tightened in his jeans in sympathy.
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He circled the nub of her nipple with his fingers, knowing from her quickened breathing and her heartbeat he could feel underneath her skin that every touch was teasing her nerve endings, building desire in her. Beau bent his head and touched his tongue lightly to the tip of her nipple. She tasted…amazing. He blew on her without touching her again, and he heard her ragged moan of frustration. Slowly, he kissed up the bottom curve of her breast, around it, up the top slope. Her skin was like pale satin. She shifted her hips restlessly on the bed. He knew he was torturing her, torturing himself, but he was enjoying himself too damn much to care. With a groan, Cassie tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth to her nipple. Okay. Time to care. He was dying to do it, anyway. He drew her nipple into his mouth and sucked, swirling his tongue, rasping his teeth. She cried out beneath him. He changed his mind about the country club boy. He could see how a guy could cream in his Jockeys, doing this to Cassie. He suckled harder, drawing her further into his mouth, and felt her fingers tighten in his hair. Yeah. This was good. This was how he liked to do it, slow and easy and thorough, like a long dirty blues song. Except this was better than any time he’d ever done this before. He caressed her and sucked her and tasted her until he started to get the feeling that her other boob might be getting lonely. When his mouth let go of her nipple it made a wet popping sound. He looked down at the breast he’d been paying attention to; the skin was pink from the roughness of his beard, and her nipple was turgid, the color of a ripe raspberry. Her other boob was pale and untouched and practically pouting at him. Definitely lonely. Beau shifted on the bed. Before he gave his full concentration to her neglected breast, he looked up into Cassie’s face. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her mouth open and panting.
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“You enjoying yourself, darlin’?” he asked. “Oh, yes,” she breathed. “But—” He shook his head. “No buts. I’m only halfway done here. At most.” And he began the whole unhurried process all over again. Touching, squeezing, caressing, stroking, licking, nibbling, sucking. Feeling Cassie taking long, shuddery breaths underneath him, relishing the feeling of her hands clutching his hair. He loved this breast as thoroughly as the other one, as long and as careful. Maybe a little bit longer, actually. But he didn’t mind; he’d make it up to the other one, if it was jealous. Somewhere on the edge of his consciousness he heard that hissing air sound again. Jealous breasts could wait for a little while, he decided. Cassie’s writhing on the bed was becoming more urgent, less restrained, and his mind was starting to wander to all the other things he wanted to do with her. And his dick was starting to feel like a ton of redhot iron in his pants. She tugged on his hair and he slid up on the bed so his face was level with hers. She kissed him with passion and more than a little bit of desperation, and then tore her lips away. “You’re still dressed,” she complained. “I want to see you naked.” Her hands reached for the hem of his T-shirt. He helped her lift it off him and then he rolled off her to pull off his boots and socks, and to finally let his throbbing dick out of the confines of his jeans and underwear. His hands were shaking, he noticed, his movements as desperate as Cassie’s kiss. The minute his cock hit the cooler air of the room he felt his balls tighten and he had to take a deep breath to stop from coming right then and there, without Cassie even touching him. Then she was touching him. She knelt behind him and ran her little hands over his back and shoulders and around the front to explore his chest. “You’ve got a great body,” she whispered in his ear, letting her palms slide lower, over his abs and to his thick pubes.
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One finger touched the purple head of his cock and he cried out and nearly came again before he bit down on his lip, hard. The pain shocked him back into control. “No,” he growled, and scooted away from her on the bed so she couldn’t reach him. Her green eyes widened, and he saw that she’d mistaken his retreat as him changing his mind about her. “It’s fine, darlin’. I’m just too excited for you to touch me right now.” “Crazed with lust?” Cassie guessed, and smiled. “That’s it, sugar.” He laid her down on the bed and caressed her bare legs. “Let me spend a little more time on you, make sure it’s good for both of us, okay?” She nodded. He knelt between her legs on the bed, his damn cock pointing straight toward her pussy like it was a magnet and he was an iron rod. He shrugged at the thought. It wasn’t too far from the truth, actually. He’d thought the overwhelming desire he’d felt in the blue tube was something unusual, maybe unrepeatable. But he wanted Cassie as much now as he had then. The only difference was that he seemed to have some sort of hold on his sanity this time. A feeble hold, but better than nothing. Beau’s hands slid up past her knees, up the insides of her thighs. This time he let himself touch her, feeling the soft hair of her pubes with the palm of his hand as he cupped her. She whimpered, and he looked up into her face. “So no man had ever touched you here, Cassie? Besides me?” She shook her head, and he was amazed at the satisfaction that flooded through him at her answer, at knowing that he was the first and so far, the only man to have access to her sweet cunt. “What about you?” he asked. “Have you ever made yourself come?” Cassie looked a little bit shocked at his question, but then she looked him frankly in the eye. “You mean do I masturbate? Yes. I mean, not all the time or anything, just when— you know.” She held her chin up as if she were defying somebody. “But it’s important for
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a woman to know about her own body. That way she can help her mate learn how to please her.” Beau smiled. “You sound like a book.” She flushed again. “Well, I might have read that somewhere, now that I think about it.” He nodded. “Now that’s my kind of reading.” He took hold of her right hand and brought it between her legs. “Show me what you do. So I know how to please you.” Cassie squirmed. “I—uh—it’s embarrassing to do it in front of someone.” “Hey, it was your idea, remember?” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each finger, ending with a soft kiss on her palm. “Show me,” he murmured, lowering her hand to her sex. She sighed and closed her eyes and spread her legs wider. Beau settled back on his heels and watched, fascinated, as her fingers stroked her own pussy, separating the moist pink lips. Her black hair was soaked with her juices; Beau could see how it curled damply around her sensitive flesh. “Wow!” Her eyes opened and she stared at him. “I’m really wet.” “I know,” he breathed. “It’s awesome. Show me what you like.” Her eyes fluttered shut again and her fingers zeroed in on her clit. It was standing out, pink and proud with arousal, and when she touched it she gasped and her hips jolted up from the bed. He knew how she felt. If she touched the head of his penis with those slippery fingers of hers he would be jolting, too. She began to swirl her fingers around her nubbin with a light, even pressure. She’d done more of this than she admitted, he thought, enthralled. The thought made his cock jump up against his stomach. “That feel good, Cassie?” he asked, and wasn’t surprised that his voice was a rough mutter. “Yes,” she whispered, her fingers still working.
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He couldn’t help it. He reached forward and slipped his hand between her legs, underneath her busy fingers, and slid his index finger into her slick cunt. She cried out and he stifled his own moan, remembering what it had felt to have his cock embraced by that hot wet tightness. He moved his finger deeper inside her, then began a quick rhythm, in and out, matching her fluttering strokes. “Good?” he asked, and when she nodded frantically he added his middle finger, still following the pace she set. She was so tight; he hadn’t planned it this way, but he was glad he was preparing her, stretching her with his fingers before he had sex with her again. She was so drenched and turned on that he wasn’t likely to hurt her, but he didn’t want to take any chances. And besides, this was so cool to watch. Her hips began to thrust against him, begging him to finger-fuck her harder, faster. She was getting even wetter; his fingers glistened with her juices as he inserted his third finger, too, feeling her pussy walls clamping around him. Cassie screamed. She reared off the bed and then collapsed backwards, raising her hips in the air as he felt her contract around his fingers with an orgasm of incredible strength. He watched her, saw how long she kept touching herself to draw out the full length of her climax, and when she was lying limp on the bed, her body trembling with aftershocks, and letting her hand fall limply away from herself, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to have her again. Now. With a low groan of unbearable passion he covered her with his naked body. She was soft, like heaven beneath him, curved in all the right places. His skin was so sensitive, so turned on, that he could feel the post-orgasmic flush on her chest and belly. “It should feel better this time, darlin’,” he said to her. “But if it hurts—” “It won’t hurt. I want you inside me. Your fingers were nice, but it wasn’t enough.” “See, I love the way you think.” It took all his control not to plunge inside her as fast and furious as he had the first time they’d made love. He gritted his teeth as the tip of his dick found her wet pussy.
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Slowly, he slid inside her, a fraction of an inch at a time, revelling in the way that her hot flesh surrounded him, squeezed him. He couldn’t have done this before. In the tube. It didn’t make sense, because this time he actually wanted Cassie more, because he knew how it felt to be buried deep inside her, to hear her cries of release in his ears. And more than that, he knew her better. They’d actually had some time to talk to each other. The guys down at the garage would call him a softie, but Beau liked to know a woman before he got her into bed. And Cassie was worth getting to know. “Beau,” she moaned. That nearly drove him over the edge, too. She was so sexy, that proper voice of hers. Her shyness and curiosity. And her body fit him as if she were made for him. Her heat and her tightness, combined with the exquisite feeling of her spasms from her intense climax. No. Not made for him. Just very, very— “Wonderful,” he muttered, and slid the last bit home. Deep inside her, the root of his dick rubbing against that beautiful clit. He rotated his hips and heard her gasp. Gently, he guided her legs to wrap around him, up high on his waist so that she was open for him, so he could feel his balls resting against the swell of her ass. “Dang, I don’t care where we are, right now I’m in heaven,” he said to her. Her green eyes, wide with discovery and passion, smiled at him. And then he began to move. As slowly as he could, the long journey back out of her body, only to sink back in. Smooth strokes, leisurely, or as leisurely as he could make them, because everything about Cassie’s body was urging him onwards, deeper, faster, harder. Except for his need to please her. To make up for what he’d taken from her in the tube, so quickly. To show her that sex could be gentle, it could be fun, it could be— Cassie clamped down hard on him with her inner muscles. “Sweet bejesus,” he gasped. “Wow,” she agreed, and grabbed his ass. “Don’t stop.” Stopping was not high on his list of priorities at the moment. To prove it to her, he speeded up, gave an extra little thrust at the end of each stroke, to the rhythm of her
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pussy’s contractions. Sweat slicked his body with the effort of restraining himself. “Come again for me, sweetheart.” “Oh, I’m going to,” she told him. “Right now. I’m crazed with—lust!” The last word was a shout as she came again. Her pussy squeezed him, she bucked against him, jiggling her breasts up and down, and that was it. He officially lost control. Hard and fast at last, he rode her, shaking the bed, shaking the world. Her head rolled from side to side, her beautiful eyes closed in pleasure, her breath coming out in gasps with every thrust he made. Beau braced himself on the bed above her, dipped his head and touched his tongue to the side of her neck to taste her. The taste kicked him past the point of no return. With a roar of ecstasy he felt his seed jetting from his balls and into her, and his orgasm hit him like a freight train on the Alabama railroad. He collapsed on top of Cassie, breathing ragged, heartbeat wild, his lips searching out hers for a final, exhausted kiss before he closed his eyes and sank into bliss. The last thing he felt before dropping into sleep was her arms curling around him.
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Chapter Four
Eve rushed after Leandros, doubling her steps to keep up with his long strides. The door, which had just moments before led to the black room with the tube, now opened into the same bedroom she’d been in when she arrived in this bizarre place. Red carpeting, a heart-shaped bed covered with a quilted, red, satiny duvet. The 70’s honeymoon cottage from hell. But she didn’t allow herself more than a quick glance around the room. She had to talk to Leandros. He disappeared through a door on the far side of the room. She ran across the thick carpeting, hoping to reach it before it could slam shut, and he disappeared God-knewwhere. But she didn’t. The black door—the only thing not red in the whole room— slammed soundly. Fear slithered down her spine. What if he was gone? How could she feel so attached to a man she’d known for only a few hours? Okay, it had been a pretty life-altering few hours but still. She didn’t even feel this close to some of her life-long friends. Or to Ba… “Shit,” Leandros’s voice boomed from behind the closed door. Eve felt a combination of relief that he was still there to swear, and new fear that something awful was happening to him. Another tube. Another woman. She grabbed the silver handle and threw the door open to find Leandros standing in the center of a pink and chrome bathroom, his back to her. He was alone. Now that she’d found him, she had no idea what to say to him. “Are you all right?” she asked quietly. He glanced over his shoulder at her, his dark eyes unreadable, then he strode over to the far wall and slammed his fist against the tile.
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“No! You can’t find a damned door in this place when you need one! But when you don’t want one, they’re fuckin’ everywhere.” Eve would have laughed, except Leandros was so desperate to get away from her, he was willing to punch pink marbled tile. She waited. He didn’t turn around to look at her but just stood there with his back to her, head hung. Finally, she crept over to him and touched his shoulder. His muscles stiffened under the satiny material of his shirt. She didn’t take her fingers away; instead she rubbed the sinew there. Even such a simple touch, a touch designed to comfort him, aroused her. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t have said that. But you were upsetting Cassandra.” For a moment, Leandros didn’t react, then as quick as the fastest Vegas cardsharp, he spun and pulled her against his fine, half-bare chest. “And what are you upset for, Eve? For liking what happened back in the tube? Because, sweetheart,” he narrowed his eyes, “I know you liked it. A lot.” “You’re very sure of yourself.” “I don’t need to be, baby. You told me. Screamed it, in fact.” Eve stared up at his dark eyes, at the injured look hidden behind his sly expression. She couldn’t avoid the truth. “I did like it,” Eve admitted. “I loved what we did.” A smug smile started to pull at the corner of his sensual, sculpted mouth. Her eyes locked on those beautiful lips. She wanted to taste his satisfaction, but she didn’t. She couldn’t, and she hated herself for wanting to. Besides, he needed the whole truth. “But I shouldn’t have had sex with you. I shouldn’t even have touched you. It was this place, or being scared, or—I don’t know what it was. But I can’t do it again.” Her heart ached as his small, sexy smile disappeared. She felt him withdraw emotionally, though she could still feel his arms strong around her back and his chest hard against her aching breasts.
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“Stop being a prude,” he said to her. “You liked it, I liked it. We’re both grown-ups. We can do what we want.” “But we can’t.” He released her, and she felt the loss of his heat. She crossed her arms, as if that feeble protection was going to help her. “I don’t want to be attracted to you, Leandros.” His eyes narrowed. “This apology sucks.” She sighed. He was right. It did suck and it was going to suck worse. But she had to tell him, and she had to be strong. Silently, she rubbed the ring finger of her left hand. The one-carat solitaire wasn’t there. It hadn’t been since she arrived in this strange place, but at the moment, she could feel the weight of the ring as if the 14-carat gold were melded permanently to her flesh. Actually, she’d felt that way for a long time, she realized. It was strange how light her hand felt. How free. And that made her feel even worse. “Eve, stop playing with me,” Leandros said. “I don’t need all this cryptic shit.” “I’m—I’m not playing with you. Or I won’t any more.” Eve again fiddled with her finger. She tried to find the right words, and as she struggled, she wondered if it would be as hard to find the words to tell Barry about Leandros. “Leandros, I’m engaged,” she blurted out, finding no easier way to tell him. She didn’t know what he’d do next. Whether he’d laugh, or shrug, or storm off again in anger. He was a stranger, after all. He stared at her, his face devoid of any reaction, and Eve felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. For some reason, she’d expected him to care. Then he reached for her hand, studying her bare fingers. Even though she wore no ring, a tan line clearly marked where it usually sat. He rubbed his thumb over the mark as if he hoped to wipe the pale band away. Eve hated herself for it, but she wished his gentle caress had worked. But she couldn’t brush Barry aside that easily. And no longer having a ring or tan line wouldn’t
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suddenly negate her engagement. It wouldn’t make up for what she’d done to Barry—and Leandros. And herself. Not that she’d had much say in her actions with Leandros. Once she’d let herself cross the line, their sex in that tube had been wild and unstoppable. But it couldn’t be repeated. Again, his thumb brushed her finger, and pinpoints of delight danced over her skin. She slipped her hand out of his grasp, determined to ignore her reaction. “You don’t understand,” she said to him. “I can’t touch you any more, Leandros. I don’t trust myself. Even something like your touching my hand is too much.” “Is it?” He smiled, so damn sexy it was wrong. “Even this?” One of his fingers feathered across the back of her hand, again, and she stepped back. “Don’t you play with me,” she snapped. “You know you’re this great babe magnet or whatever, and I’ve already begged you to have sex with me even though I belong to someone else, and—oh, God.” She clapped both her hands to her mouth, the blood draining from her face. Leandros’s smile immediately vanished. He took her shoulders in her hands. “Eve? What is it?” “What if I’m pregnant?” she whispered. “You—came inside me, twice. What if— how am I going to tell Barry?” He pulled her into his arms again, and she couldn’t resist. Her legs were weak, her stomach sick. “Eve,” he said quietly, “I don’t think that’s happened.” She wanted to relax into his embrace, his reassurances, but she couldn’t. Especially as both of them were irrational. “How on earth can you know that?” “I don’t know it. But I still think it. This place—nothing is normal here. It doesn’t feel like any of the usual rules apply.” She laughed bitterly. “You mean the rules about faithfulness and decency?” “I mean that maybe there’s a different kind of faithfulness and decency here. Some weird-ass space-sex-slave faithfulness and decency.”
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“You’re not making any sense.” He sighed. “You’re probably right. I have that problem sometimes.” He stroked back her hair. “Listen, if you’re pregnant, Eve, we’ll deal with it.” We’ll. She raised her head at the word and stared into his eyes. Beautiful eyes that could go from smoldering to inscrutable to soulful in a heartbeat. She wasn’t sure what she saw there. She did see him swallow, as if he wasn’t sure what he’d just said, either. He loosened his hold on her, so he was still touching her, but lightly, with some distance between them. “So,” he said. “His name is Barry, huh?” “Yes.” He nodded. “I used to have a keyboard player named Barry. He was a good guy.” Eve smiled slightly, liking the fact that he was trying to see Barry as a nice person based on his past experiences with other Barrys. His reasoning and his kindness made her want to hug him. “Barry is a good guy.” “What does he do?” “He’s an accountant.” Leandros nodded as if he expected a normal, dependable career like that. No performing on the Vegas strip every night. No flashing lights or loud music or screaming women. Just a nice, safe cubicle, rows of logical numbers and a decent retirement plan. Guilt again tightened her chest. She shouldn’t be finding Barry’s choice of career lacking—after all he loved his job, and he was good at it. She’d liked the security of his job too. But she bet Leandros was darned good at his job as well. He was the epitome of sexy heartthrob with his shoulder-length wavy hair and good looks. He probably had dozens of women after him. Engaged ones, married ones even. Which made it all the more extraordinary that he seemed to be sympathetic to her distress. Her gaze dropped from his face to his body. His shirt was still parted, revealing the smattering of hair that created a “v” on his muscled chest. The hair dwindled down to
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nothing as his pecs flattened into rock hard abdomen. Then the hair returned in tempting whorls around his flat bellybutton and disappeared under his waistband. She knew where that second trail of hair led, and even through her guilt and remorse, her fingers twitched with the desire to touch him. “I’ve never acted the way I did today,” she told him. “I’ve never cheated like that.” He nodded as if he already knew that. His belief made her want to hug him, too. “It might not mean much, coming from me, but I don’t think you should feel guilty,” Leandros said. “Like I said, we haven’t exactly been thrown into a normal circumstance here. You couldn’t be expected to act normally. I know I didn’t.” She remembered him still thick and hard, after two incredible orgasms. “You mean you’re not usually everlasting erection man?” He raised his eyebrows. “I was referring more to the glowing blue tube.” “Uh huh.” But she couldn’t help smiling, and that was a relief. He smiled back. “My wild sex is usually contained to the usual places. Beds. Floors. The occasional random piece of furniture.” He glanced around. “Bathrooms.” Desire immediately flared to life. Her nipples puckered against the lace of her bra. She could feel moisture damping the inside of her naked thighs. God help her, she wanted to know what it was like to have sex with Leandros in all of those places. Especially in this gauche pink bathroom. “So you and Barry haven’t done the tube?” More guilt hit her like a splash of icy water. “No. No tubes.” Nothing that earthshattering. Nothing that thrilling. Unable to meet his gaze, she looked down at the floor. She noticed for the first time he had huge feet, at least a size twelve. Apparently there was truth to that old adage. Barry was a size 9, narrow. Feet. Why was she thinking about feet? Barry offered her everything she needed. A home, permanence, companionship. They were planning to get married and have a family.
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Yet, in this bathroom, staring at Leandros’s feet, she wondered if Barry offered her everything she wanted. And as she wondered it, she knew it wasn’t the first time this doubt had crossed her mind. “Eve,” Leandros said softly, capturing her chin, raising her eyes to meet his. “I shouldn’t have asked that. I don’t want to pry into your life with Barry.” She nodded, licking her dry lips. “It doesn’t matter. I want to be honest with you about this.” His dark, hungry gaze fastened on her lips, and she fought the urge to brush her tongue along them again. “I’m not going to lie to you either,” he said. “I want you to want me. I wish you were available, because I’ve never experienced anything like this. This need that drives me insane every time I look at you.” “I know,” she agreed miserably. “It’s the same for me.” His head came down, his mouth capturing hers. His tongue traced the seam of her lips. She couldn’t help it; she opened for him. Their tongues mingled, each fleeting sweep gentle and infinitely exciting. But they only kissed for a second more before he lifted his head, his eyes searching hers. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Eve nodded, pressing her burning lips together. Unconsciously her legs pressed closed too. She stepped back from him. As if that would help. “But.” He shook his head, then ran his hands through his wavy locks. “The thing is, I keep on thinking about the old motto ‘What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.’” “We’re not in Vegas now,” Eve pointed out. “Not that I know Vegas, but I’m sure I would be seeing some slot machines.” “No, I think we’re somewhere a lot stranger. And that makes me think that the old motto might apply even more, here.” She closed her eyes, because the idea was so incredibly tempting.
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For all she knew she was never going to see Barry again. The idea didn’t frighten her as it should have, not like she thought it would, and certainly not like when Leandros had stormed out of the room and she thought she might lose him forever. “You reach into someplace inside me,” she said, her eyes still closed, knowing she shouldn’t be saying this and not trusting herself to see Leandros’s reaction. “The place where I can talk dirty and shout out what I need and then take it. Over and over again.” “How does that feel?” he asked her. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel him very close. “Thrilling,” she admitted. “Amazing.” “Do you want to lose that?” His voice was low, and full of desire. She couldn’t answer in words. But she shook her head. She didn’t want to lose what he’d released in her. Before more guilt could flood her, his soft, wonderful lips returned to hers. His large, warm hands cupped her face as he deepened his kiss. She’d never been kissed like this before, like she was something precious that needed to be treasured. Her hand touched his chest just as she’d wanted to since before they’d left Cassandra and Beau. Curls tickled her fingertips, while the warm, solid muscles underneath seared her palms. In the distance, she heard a faint hiss, like the air coming on, or maybe the toilet handle needed to be jiggled. Then the noise disappeared, blotted out by the feeling of his hands leaving her face to touch her shoulders, her arms. His palms warm, his fingers slightly calloused. Her nerve-endings sang to life. Then he stopped kissing her. She whimpered in the back of her throat and lifted her face back to his, opening her eyes now that she’d made her decision. “I don’t care what happens. I want you again.” “Eve, are you sure?” His eyes burned with passion and just a hint of uncertainty. “Because if we start, I don’t know if I will be able to stop.” He could stop now? She didn’t have that ability. She was his for the taking. Already her whole being ached for his touch. All she wanted to do was scale his tall body and fuck him until neither of them could move—or think.
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She really didn’t want to think. In answer, she let her hands slide down his chest over his belly to the waistband of his pants. She popped the button free. Then she moved to the zipper that went halfway down his thigh. “When I first saw you, I thought this was just a fashion statement. Now I know different.” Leandros smiled slightly as he watched her draw the metal clasp downward. She made sure the back of her hand grazed his skin as she did so, first brushing his lower stomach, then his groin, then the top of his thigh. He released a shuddering breath. Her own followed. She might be trying to tease him, but her attempts were driving herself mad as well. She hooked his waistband and nudged the pants down his hips. He toed off his shoes, then kicked the pants aside. Eve stood back to admire him, all long bones and lean muscle. He was beautiful. “You are a large man.” He was well over six feet tall. Her eyes dropped to his groin, where his erection jutted tight against his stomach, heavy and thick. “Everywhere.” “Do you like that?” His voice was rough and breathy. “Did you like my big cock inside you?” “I loved it. Pounding into me, hard and fast and hot.” She was slightly shocked at her own words, that she was doing this, even knowing all the reasons she shouldn’t. But she couldn’t turn back now. She hadn’t been able to turn back as soon as she’d seen him in the corridor for the first time, even though she hadn’t chosen consciously, before. Vegas rules were just an excuse. This was everything she wanted, right now. The newness of it. The danger. How it was so, so different from anything she’d ever experienced before. “Leandros,” she said, savoring the syllables on her tongue as if they were part of his body. “That’s Greek, isn’t it? Lion-man.” She stepped closer to him. “Do you want to be wild with me, Leandros?” He groaned, deep in his chest. He circled a finger in the air. “Turn around.”
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She hated to give up the lovely view, but she did as he requested. She could see their reflection in the mirror above the vanity, Leandros’s skin slightly darker than hers, his body towering over her. His hands stroked down the smooth skin of her shoulders as he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. She moaned as his tongue licked down the top of her spine until his lips met her dress. Then she felt a tug as he worked the zipper down. “This is a lot easier to unfasten with a little more light and room to move around,” he commented between kisses as the dress slowly parted. The taffeta skimmed down her body, strumming her nerve-endings as Leandros’s lips continued to press over her shoulder blades and back. “You smell like warmed spices.” He licked her again. “You taste even better.” She shivered as he unhooked her bra and pushed the lace down her arms. Then his big hands came around to cup her breasts. She watched as his thumbs stroked over the extended nipples, the rouged points prodding hungrily against him. He squeezed them, twisting his fingers like he was slowly changing the dial on a radio. Setting it straight onto the ecstasy station. Her body hummed. “You have beautiful breasts,” he murmured in her ear, his teeth capturing the lobe. He squeezed her whole breasts in his hands, his palms rough and hot against her sensitive flesh, his eyes watching the reflection of his hands on her in the mirror. A noise that sounded like a low hiss escaped her throat. Or maybe it was the air conditioning again. Or the toilet. All she knew for sure was she couldn’t stand this torture any longer. Her breasts ached. Her pussy throbbed. And she had to have Leandros deep inside her. She turned in his arms, her breasts brushing against the hair of his chest. She moaned. “Leandros, please. Fuck me.” He nodded, then his head swooped down and his lips captured hers. His hands moved to her ass, kneading her, pulling her tight to him. He walked her backwards, the smoothness of his skin, the coarseness of his hair, the hardness of his muscles and giant
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erection all creating a slow, sensual massage over the front of her body. Her knees threatened to buckle at the sheer pleasure of it. She gasped as Leandros lifted her, setting her on the vanity. The chill of the marble countertop sent more shivers through her, which only seemed to add to her desire. He kissed her for several moments, his hands stroking from her hips up her ribcage to her breasts. He teased the nipples just a bit, then slid his fingers down the same path to her hips. He spanned them and pulled her forward on the counter, until her butt was on the very edge. He stepped away, just a little. Enough so his dark gaze could roam over her. She leaned back on her arms, surprised that her passion-weakened limbs could hold her. He reached forward, and she watched raptly as his fingertips grazed the curls at the apex of her thighs. “Open up for me, baby,” he muttered, his tone rough. She obeyed, letting her knees fall apart. Cool air hit the hot, wet flesh of her labia. Her clit pulsed and strained at the faint stimulation. But she didn’t want the insubstantial caress of air. Her eyes dropped to his crotch. His cock, dusky, veined and thick, jerked against his stomach. She wanted the very substantial thrust of that cock deep inside her. Juices dripped down her sex in anticipation. She reached for him, wanting to curl her fingers around his girth, but he stepped back again. “Give me a minute, baby. Just the sight of your wet, pink pussy is pushing me too close to the edge.” His words excited her further. She understood how he felt. She could practically come just looking at his beautiful body too. But her own arousal didn’t stop her from leaning back on her hands, opening her legs wider and tilting her hips invitingly. “Come on in,” she said. He growled. “You are a tease.” She smiled. She’d never been called that. Then again she’d never teased a man like this before.
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She liked it. It made her feel powerful and sexy. But what she really loved was the look on Leandros’s face. He watched her with hungry, smoldering eyes. A slight flush darkened his cheekbones and she could see the uneven rise and fall of his chest. He moved back to her, positioning himself between her hips. His penis bobbed, angling on its own toward her pussy like a divining rod locating water. Oh, that huge cock was definitely coming to the right place. She was soaked with arousal. But it wasn’t his cock that touched her. His long fingers parted her wet curls, finding her tightened clit. She cried out and pressed herself against his hand. “Do you like that?” “Yes,” she breathed. “Too much.” Too much, too intense, just on the cusp of pain, but far too pleasurable to make him stop. He stroked her, swirling around the nub again and again. She writhed helplessly under his touch. “That’s it, baby. Come for me,” he coaxed. She nodded, biting her bottom lip, mindlessly reacting to him. Her release built quickly, powerfully. She could barely pull in panting breaths as he stroked her with even, eddying pressure. Just as she felt herself tense with violent release, she felt his hand at her back, bracing her as he filled her to the hilt, his huge cock stretching her. “Leandros!” she screamed as her orgasm rocked the world off its axis. She clutched him, biting his shoulder as the she continued to shake, wave after wave of bliss vibrating her body. “God,” she breathed. “Another can of paint thinner—gone up in flames.” Leandros tilted his head to see her, frowning. “You’ll have to explain that later. Because right now, I have got to move.” Eve nodded readily. Even after that planet-altering orgasm, she still wanted more. She was insatiable. But there was something else she needed. “Wait,” she said. “I want to see us.” Leandros seemed to understand right away. “Any way you want it, baby.” He slid out of her all the way, leaving her empty; Eve could only bear it knowing he was going to
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be right back where he belonged in seconds at most. Then she hopped off the vanity, turning to face the mirror. She braced her hands on the vanity, spread her legs for him, and met the reflection of his eyes. “Now,” she told him. He held her gaze in the mirror as he angled himself behind her, his hands on either hip, and then slowly penetrated her again. His eyes were so sexy, dark and deep and smoldering with lust. But she couldn’t keep looking at them for too long; there was too much else to see. Like his hands, dark on the pale skin of her hips. His chest, so perfect. The way his hair tumbled around his face; how his muscles tensed as he moved inside her. And he was watching them, too. He saw the contrast between their bodies, how they fit together. His eyes on her gave her nearly as much pleasure as his hands and his dick. Leandros eased slowly out of her, only to slide back in deep, filling her to the womb. He kept his pace slow and steady, and Eve could tell by his creased brow and pursed lips, he was trying to be gentle. “Leandros,” she said, catching his gaze again. “I don’t want it slow. Give it to me hard and fast.” He pulsed inside her, and unbelievably seemed to swell even larger. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he gritted out, and she knew her words and her image in the mirror were driving him crazy. “You were sore earlier.” “I can take it.” “Eve,” he said raggedly, his keeping his pace steady and even. She thrust her ass backwards against him and rotated her hips. “Come on, big boy, fuck me.” He growled and did as she asked, pounding into her so she had to brace her hands on the marble counter top. Each hammering entry of his cock made her cry out, made her pussy weep for more. This was what she wanted, Leandros unrestrained, wild between her thighs. She could see his rod pumping in and out of her from behind, the way her
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breasts bounced up and down with every thrust, the contracting of her own stomach muscles as she gave it back to him, as good as she got. Another orgasm rocketed through her, sending little missiles of ecstasy to all her limbs. “Yes!” she cried. “Eve,” he shouted, his face twisting, and she felt the wet gush of his semen shooting into her like searing hot jet fuel. She fell forward against the counter, gasping for air, spent. Leandros leaned on top of her, his arms braced around her, his wavy hair tickling the back of her neck. “Oh. My. God,” she finally managed to say between shallow breaths. Leandros nodded and she could feel the rasp of his five o’clock shadow against her skin. It felt nice. After several moments, he levered himself up, and slowly slid from her thoroughly fucked pussy. She whimpered. “Damn,” he muttered softly, studying the reddened, swollen flesh of her sex. “I knew I needed to be gentle.” Eve shook her head and smiled. In the mirror she could see satisfaction written all over her face. “No. That was fantastic.” He shook his head, but smiled indulgently, kissing her on the shoulder. Then he walked across the room. Eve, not quite ready to move yet, watched him in the mirror through half-closed eyes, admiring the roll of the muscles in his back and shoulders, and the tightness of his cute butt. She absently was aware that he’d turned on the shower, but she didn’t register his intent until he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her gently, and placed her under the hot spray. She groaned as the heat penetrated her aching muscles. “Oh, that feels good,” she sighed. Leandros followed her in, closing the glass and chrome door. He pulled her against him and she rested her cheek wearily on his chest. For a moment, she must have dozed, because she started as he moved away from her.
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He steadied her and gave her another indulgent, lopsided grin. “Can you stand by yourself for just a moment?” She nodded, even though her body felt boneless. He stepped out of the tub, and she leaned heavily against the wall to keep her balance. Her eyes drifted shut. In a few moments, Leandros returned. She opened her eyes and smiled, but then they closed again, her lids as weighed as her limbs. Leandros’s arm slipped around her back and his chest brushed her side. “Spread your legs, baby.” She opened her eyes, slightly dismayed. There was no way she could have sex again. Not right now. Alarm must have been clear in her eyes, because he grinned. “Don’t worry I don’t plan to ravish you against the shower wall. Not right now, anyway.” She smiled lazily at that. And then she obediently spread her feet apart. Leandros held a folded washcloth up under the water, then placed the cloth between her thighs. The heat seeped into the sore swollen flesh there, and she sighed. “That feels good,” she murmured, again resting her head against his chest. She felt safe, somehow, although she would have thought that was impossible in this situation— with a man she barely knew, in a place she didn’t understand. But she did. As if she’d been waiting for somebody to protect her, minister to her as gently as Leandros was doing. He repeated the process several times, each time the water and heat making her plundered pussy feel less tender until a new more insistent ache started. As he placed the cloth back against her, holding it there with his big hand, his palm cupping her mound, his thumb brushing the top of her pubes, she moved her hips slightly, the rough cloth rasping her aroused flesh. She shifted her hips again, but Leandros still didn’t move his hand. He simply continued to hold her, which was as arousing as the rough texture of the washcloth. “Leandros,” she said, peeking up at him. “I think I could do the shower wall now.”
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He looked down at her, his hair wet, a stray lock hanging over one eye. “No, baby, not now. You’re falling asleep in my arms.” “No, I’m definitely getting my second wind.” He shook his head. “You might be, but you’re too sore. Let me just hold you.” She gazed in his dark eyes, her heart swelling. “Okay. But I think you’d better stop with the washcloth. Who knew terrycloth could be so stimulating?” He grinned, a sexy, sly little curl of his lips. “I’ll remember that.” He dropped the tormenting towel onto the edge of the tub, then pulled her back against him. Water beat soothingly on her back, but still Eve couldn’t suppress the need that was budding deep within her. With every rise and fall of Leandros’s chest, with every slight shift of his arms, with every nuzzle of his cheek against the top of her head, her need grew. She wriggled again, trying to find a position that didn’t arouse her. None worked. “Eve?” She lifted her head. “Yeah.” “You’re still thinking about the shower wall sex, aren’t you?” “Yes,” she admitted, her tone frustrated. “That’s not going to happen,” he told her. Then he added, “But I’m not going to leave you unsatisfied.” She watched as he sank to his knees, his hands holding her hips. Her own hands went to his shoulders. “What are you doing?” she breathed. “Satisfying you.” He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the curls of her sex, and her knees threatened to give out. She held fast to his shoulders as he continued to nuzzle her, that action almost worshiping. His hands left her hips, and he used his thumbs to spread the lips of her pussy. His tongue flicked over her clit. She gasped, her head falling back, water sluicing down over her body. His tongue, as hot and wet as the water, swirled and lapped. She held onto him, the shower quickly becoming a whirlpool of bliss.
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Then his lips clamped around the swollen nubbin and sucked. Eve cried out, her voice hoarse, the sound ragged. She couldn’t even find the words any more. Her release hit her like a typhoon ravaging a rocky shore. Leandros rose and pulled her tight to him, holding her until her breathing and her heartbeat returned to normal. But even then Eve could barely move. “Satisfied?” he asked her, his voice a low whisper in her ear. She nodded, and managed a sound that was meant to be an affirmative. He turned off the shower, opened the door and then scooped her into his arms. “Good thing, because, woman, I’m beat.” Eve smiled tiredly. “Well, you have more than earned some rest.” Leandros planted a quick kiss on her lips and then headed toward the bedroom. Neither cared that they were still damp when they tumbled onto the satiny bed.
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Chapter Five
Cassandra awoke. For a minute she didn’t know where she was. And then she remembered. The strange red bedroom. The pleasant ache in her limbs and her breasts and in her pussy reminded her that she wasn’t a virgin any more. And Beau was lying beside her, still asleep. She raised herself on her elbow and looked down at him. He was quite incredibly beautiful. His shiny long hair was spread out on the pillow beside her. His blue eyes were closed, and his lashes were long on his cheeks. His skin was rough with stubble around his goatee, and his lips were pink, soft, yet masculine. And that was just his face. She let her gaze wander down his body to his broad shoulders and his muscular chest. There was a spattering of brown hair on his welldefined pecs, not too much, but enough to make him look mouth-wateringly manly. His nipples were flat and brown, so different from her own. She remembered the mind-blowing attention he’d paid to her breasts and wondered if his nipples were as sensitive as hers. She made a mental note to find out, soon. But she had to finish looking at him, first. One of his arms was around her waist, and she could see a tattoo of a cross on his biceps. She’d never been much of one for tattoos, but on Beau it looked as manly and gorgeous as everything else. His stomach was flat and muscled, moving up and down with his soft breathing. There was a trail of hair from his belly button that flared out at his crotch. And his crotch. Boy, oh boy.
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His penis wasn’t rock-hard as it had been every other time she’d seen it, but even when he slept, it was impressive. It nestled on top of his soft balls like a sleeping dragon. Or a hidden tiger. Whichever. She liked the sight of a penis, she decided. Especially Beau’s. She liked seeing it long and thick and ridged, blood vessels throbbing and engorged, the head a velvety purple. And she liked seeing it now, quiescent, still masculine but somehow tender. Beau drew in a deep breath and stirred. She looked back at his face. His eyes opened, and he saw her, and he smiled. “Mornin’, darlin’.” His arm tightened around her waist and she let herself be drawn down to kiss him, his mouth warm from sleep. “Is it morning?” she asked when she came up for air. “I don’t know how long we’ve been asleep, and I don’t have a watch so I can’t tell how long we’ve been here. And I don’t know what time we got here in the first place.” She looked around the room for some clue as to the time. “Don’t know,” Beau said. “It feels like morning. Except I’ve always hated mornings, and I’m feeling pretty happy right now.” She grinned and leaned in to kiss him. “Mmm, Cassie,” he murmured against her lips. “You definitely could convert me into a morning person.” “Why do you call me that?” she asked, pulling back just enough to look into his drowsy blue eyes. “What?” “Cassie. No one calls me that.” Beau frowned. “I’m sorry—” “No,” she said quickly. “I like it. I just wondered why you called me it.” Beau’s frown deepened as he considered it. Then he caressed her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “You just look like a Cassie to me. Sweet, adorable, innocent. Cassandra seems too—stiff somehow.”
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Cassandra considered that for a moment. She didn’t know if that was really what she looked like, but she loved what Beau saw. She wanted to be Cassie. His Cassie. She smiled and pressed her lips to his again. After several leisurely kisses, she smelled food. Her stomach growled loudly and she clapped her hand to it, looking to Beau for his reaction. “Bacon,” said Beau, and launched off the bed. For the first time, Cassandra noticed that the door was ajar. He didn’t mind her stomach making noises, obviously. “And pancakes,” she said in relief. Cassandra followed him until they both realized they were naked. “I don’t have anything to wear,” Cassandra said. Beau considered. “Well, do you think that Eve and Leandros are going to come back? Because if they don’t, we might as well eat naked.” “I think they might come back,” Cassandra said doubtfully, thinking of dinner at her house. Her mother always insisted they dressed nicely before they ate. Beau scooped his Led Zeppelin T-shirt and his boxers off the floor and handed them to her. “Here, wear these,” he said, pulling his jeans over his naked legs and crotch. She watched with regret as his penis was tucked away out of sight. Cassandra pulled his T-shirt over her head. It smelled like Beau, manly and wonderful. It nearly reached her knees, but she tugged on his boxers too before they went out into the other room. There was a coffee table in front of the red couches, and it was laden with plates and plates of food: bacon, pancakes, scrambled eggs, waffles, fruit. Her stomach growled again and she headed straight for the table, reaching for a doughnut. Then she hesitated. “Do you think it’s safe to eat?” she asked. “Well, if it’s not, at least I’m gonna die happy,” Beau said behind her, caressing her ass with one hand and picking up a waffle with another. He devoured it in two bites, and reached for another. “Let me fix you a plate,” Cassandra said. She wasn’t dressed for the occasion, but that didn’t mean she should forget her manners.
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She piled a plate with some of everything, and handed it to Beau along with a knife and fork before she did the same for herself. She usually wasn’t a big eater, but she’d practically constructed a food mountain on their plates. Sex builds up a good appetite, she thought, smiling. Wherever they were, she was learning a lot. Beau took her arm and sat her down on the couch next to him, tucked close. She leaned back against his bare chest and began to eat. She felt so good. And it was strange, because she had no idea where she was or even whether this food was poisoned. But here next to Beau her body felt tingly and warm and she felt safe. And ravenous. She was eating like a pig. Food had never tasted so delicious before. “I should be eating slower. It helps overeating and controls weight gain,” Cassandra said, trying to pace herself. Beau chuckled. “Is this another book thing?” She nodded, giving him a sheepish look. “But it is true.” “Well, it may be true. But you need to try this.” He offered her a bite of a cinnamon bun dripping with white icing. She took a bite from the bun, feeling her teeth sinking into the soft white bread. The cinnamon and sugar taste exploded in her mouth. “Mmm, so good,” she said. “You’ve got icing on your lips,” Beau told her, and he leaned over and with a soft nibble of his lip on hers, he cleaned it off. “A little bit more,” he said, sweeping his tongue gently over her upper lip and then dipping it into her mouth. Cassandra felt a pang of desire all over again, making her want to melt into the sofa. “Don’t worry about what people tell you. You should do whatever feels right,” Beau murmured, and kissed her again. Leandros and Eve strolled into the room, holding hands. “It smells like Denny’s in here,” said Leandros.
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“Hey,” Eve said, spotting Cassandra. “How are you, Cassandra?” Cassandra glanced at Beau, feeling a little self-conscious about what she was going to say. But she said it anyway. “Cassie.” Eve nodded, accepting the name change as easily as Cassie had. “You look a lot better.” “Well, I’m not exactly fashionable, but yes, I feel a lot better.” Cassie squeezed Beau’s leg. “Hey, babe, rock ’n’ roll and boxer shorts never go out of style,” Beau said amiably, scraping his plate clean. “Want another muffin?” Cassie nodded, and Beau took her empty plate and went back to the table to reload it. “Besides,” Beau said, “I’m digging going commando.” “I always go commando,” Leandros said, picking up a couple of plates from the table and beginning to fill them with food. Both Beau and Cassie eyed his trousers. The zipper of his fly reached halfway down his thigh. “Man, you’re brave,” Beau said as Cassie looked quickly away. “Dude,” Leandros agreed. “Where did the food come from?” Eve asked. “It was just here when we woke up,” said Cassie. Beau came back to the sofa and gave Cassie her plate. “Glad to see you two have made up.” Eve looked over at Leandros. Had they really made up? Or were they just ignoring the issue? Leandros smiled at her. She supposed it didn’t matter. Not at the moment. She smiled back, and accepted a plate full of breakfast from him. “So have you guys thought any more about this whole spaceship deal?” Beau asked as Eve and Leandros sat on the other end of the couch. “Aside from deciding it’s got Vegas rules, not much,” Eve said. “What are Vegas rules?” Cassie asked.
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Before Eve could reply, Leandros sang a line about knowing when to hold the cards and when to fold them. He had a great singing voice. She glanced at him, and he caught her eye for a significant moment before looking back down at his meal. What had happened between them would stay between them. She could trust him. She smiled. “You and Kenny Rogers got it right,” she said, and bit into a strawberry. Cassie leaned over to Beau, and Eve heard her whisper, “What does that mean?” Beau shrugged. “You know,” Cassie said slowly, “I once read a book written by supposed alien abductees, and while their stories didn’t mention quite so much shag carpeting, it did mention disappearing rooms and tubes and things.” “You really choose some interesting reading material,” Beau said, smiling fondly at Cassie. Someone cleared their throat. “Greetings, Earthlings,” a voice came from behind them. All four of them whirled around. Faintly, Eve registered the sound of a plate hitting the floor. Something stood in the doorway. It was short, and sort of round. It had grayish green skin, and long arms that ended in—not quite fingers, more like the toes of a frog. Four stalks waved gently from the top of its head, a blinking eye on the end of each. The eyes, unlike everything else about the creature, looked human. They were hazel, with long brown lashes. “Holy shit,” whispered Leandros beside her, “it’s a fucking Martian.” “Whoa,” Beau said, then slipped a protective arm around Cassie. “My name is Lubda. I mean you no harm,” said the creature. “Correction. It was my initial belief that we, the Odilians, meant you no harm. At present I am uncertain.” Its spines swayed.
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“What did you plan to do with us?” Beau asked. “My colleagues and I plan to utilize your human sexuality as a form of marketable entertainment.” “Wow, both of my ideas were right. Aliens using us as sex slaves,” Leandros murmured as if a little surprised by his own insight. “Marketable?” Cassie had gone dead white. “To who? And how?” “Damn!” Beau said. “Why don’t you guys just have sex yourselves? It’s cheaper and probably a lot more fun.” “Our race does not engage in sexual intercourse and we find the intricacies of human joining fascinating. My comrade Nisom believes that Odilians will pay to watch it.” “How do you get all the little Odilians if you don’t fuck?” Leandros asked. “At a predetermined stage of our life cycle we reproduce through a complicated and painful process of cell division.” “That sucks,” Beau stated. The creature’s four eyes blinked in unison. “He means it’s not very pleasant for you,” Eve explained, unsure whether an alien would understand human colloquialisms. “Ah, yes.” “So was the tube a test to see if we were compatible?” Cassie asked. “Yes. The tube was our controlled experiment. Though my comrade Andyr would have me believe that compatibility is an irrelevancy.” “It isn’t,” Leandros stated. “It’s way important.” “Hold on.” Beau was on his feet by now. “You couldn’t just stick us in some tube and assume we’d have sex with each other. I mean, life’s not like that. Usually.” The alien came further into the room, holding its arms away from its body. Eve could have sworn its eyes were looking everywhere but at the four of them. “We introduced a potent mix of chemicals into the atmosphere of the tube, in order to provoke a sexual response. Any human would react to it.” Eve jumped up. “You mean you forced us to have sex for you? We had no choice?”
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“Essentially, you are correct.” Anger boiled up in her. “You can’t do this! That’s playing with people’s lives!” “I am rapidly coming to that conclusion myself.” “What if Cassie or me got pregnant? What if one of us has a deadly disease we’re spreading to someone else? You didn’t even give us the chance to put on a condom!” “The chemicals have a contraceptive effect on both males and females. And all four of you are perfectly healthy; that was one of the conditions of your selection.” “You…you mean that we would have had sex with anyone in that tube? Because of the—the chemicals?” Cassie’s voice trembled. “You are correct.” Cassie shot a pained look at Beau. “So what we felt wasn’t real. It was just a reaction to chemicals.” She blinked, stunned. “None of it was real,” Eve repeated. She wasn’t sure what emotion was making it hard for her to breathe. It should be relief. If she hadn’t chosen to cheat on Barry, she didn’t have to choose to shake up her entire life, all of her feelings and plans. But it wasn’t relief she felt. She remembered how tenderly Leandros had washed her in the shower, cared for her. “The sexual act was real. I cannot say anything for what you felt.” The alien waved its eyes around. “But you do feel?” “It was all real,” Leandros said. He’d joined Eve and Beau, standing up. “I’m not just a lab animal who reacts to stupid chemicals.” “Yeah,” said Beau. “We’re not guinea pigs.” “I contradict. You do react to the chemicals as expected by our scientist, Andyr. The first time we administered them, they were too potent and your sexual intercourse was too fast and not-subtle. Therefore, the second time we administered the chemicals we adjusted the dosage, and your intercourse was accordingly more varied and less rushed.” “You’ve been manipulating us the entire time,” Eve said, stunned. “Not just in the blue tube.” “Oh God,” Cassie cried. “And you watched.” Eve glanced at her. She looked sick.
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“You do not like others watching?” Lubda’s eyes all swiveled to Cassie. “No!” she cried. “But this contradicts everything we know about Earthling culture,” Lubda said. “Why, then, were produced the disks of human sexual habits which we have observed and have educated us?” “What disks?” Beau asked. “The titles are many. Deep Throat. Debbie Does Dallas. Generally Horny Hospital.” “Shit, that’s porn,” Beau stated, then cast a quick look at Cassie. “I think.” “It’s porn,” confirmed Leandros. Beau gave Leandros a look that eloquently said, No duh. “You’ve learned about human sexuality from porn?” Eve asked, somehow not surprised at Leandros’s familiarity with those titles. “They are ordinary factual documents, yes?” Lubda said. “I don’t think anyone would consider John Holmes ordinary,” Leandros stated. “Or factual,” Eve said. “Real life is not like a porn movie. Most of the time,” she added, confusedly glancing at Leandros. “This is very distressing,” Lubda stated, pacing the room. Its feet made slight slimy patches on the floor. “Tell me about it,” Cassie whispered. “We have based our entire mission on the belief that these disks accurately reflect human life. Tell me,” Lubda said, stopping in its tracks. “Do you experience other emotions during the joining? Emotions that are not related to your pleasure?” “Yes!” cried Cassie. “Ah! I have suspected it. This is wonderful!” “This is horrible,” Cassie corrected. She pulled away from Beau. The alien focused its eyes on her. “For example,” it said, “did you find your initial encounter to be distressing even though it was physically satisfying to you?” She made an inarticulate sound and looked away.
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“And you,” the alien said to Beau. “Why did you postpone your own pleasure to stimulate the mammary glands of your partner? Is there an emotional connection with these body parts for you? Possibly connoting comfort as well as arousal?” Beau’s face reddened. “Well, I—like Cassie’s tits,” he said. “I was also interested by your behavior,” the alien said, turning to Eve and Leandros. “You were both physically able to carry on intercourse and were clearly aroused in the shower, yet you chose to abstain. Why was this so?” “Eve was sore,” answered Leandros. “I didn’t want to hurt her.” “Yet she requested that you copulate with her, and you refused her wishes. Is the protective instinct stronger than the mating instinct in human males?” “I—no, not usually, but I—” Leandros stopped, clearly confused. He ran his hand through his hair. “Not in all human males,” Eve said quietly. The alien bobbed its eyestalks. “The moral dimension I have discussed with my comrades is, indeed, present. I will have to inform them.” It paused. “That is also problematic. They do not know I have spoken to you. It is forbidden in the experiment. Right now, they are watching a recorded loop of the four of you eating. I must leave you very soon.” “Why not call the experiment a bust and let us go?” Leandros suggested. “Not possible. Nisom and Andyr have invested too much money and research into this procedure. They will never agree.” “So we are trapped here forever?” Cassie asked, panic clear in her voice. “We planned to take you back to Odilia.” Cassie gasped, and Beau put his arm around her again. “You have to let us go back to Earth!” Eve insisted. “We have lives there—people.” She saw the way Leandros looked at her, and her stomach sank. “I have a dog,” Beau added. “You can’t use us as performing animals,” she continued, hoping the dog comment and her own words would distract Leandros from the implications of what she’d said.
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“I can infer the significance of these things to you. Other humans—and canines. But Nisom and Andyr will never allow the experiment to be aborted.” “Listen, man,” Beau frowned, “or lady, you have got to help us.” “You must be on our side if you risked the experiment to talk to us,” Eve added. “I can perform one act,” Lubda said. “You appear to be discomforted by the idea of being manipulated by chemicals. I can block the passage of the pheromones into these living quarters whilst keeping the contraceptive, although I cannot halt the next stages of the experiment.” “What are the next stages?” Cassie asked, horrified. “Andyr wants to vary the pairings.” It took a moment to sink in before Cassie gasped. “But—but I don’t want to—” Cassie stammered. “Thanks,” said Leandros. “Great,” Eve muttered. “If I wasn’t going to hell before…” “Thanks,” Leandros repeated. Cassie burst away from Beau and ran toward the alien. “You can’t do this,” she cried, clutching the gray clothing it wore. Lubda backed away rapidly. “I can block the passage of the pheromones into these living quarters. I can do no more.” The alien retreated out the door, which vanished behind it. “Shit,” Beau stated. “Yeah,” Leandros agreed. “We’re going to be the Tommy and Pamela of the galaxy.” It was hard to tell from his tone whether that was a good or bad thing. “And all I was planning to do when I woke up this morning was a couple oil changes and to rotate some tires.” Beau shook his head. Cassie cried aloud in despair and darted into the bedroom. Beau ran after her. Eve held her head in her hands. “This is like the worst science fiction movie ever made.” “Worst science fiction porn movie,” Leandros corrected.
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Chapter Six
Porn movie. Great. “We need to figure out how to get out of here,” Eve said. “You really want to go home to Barry, don’t you?” Leandros asked. Eve collapsed on the sofa, too overcome by all that had happened to answer right away. Finally she sighed. “That isn’t a fair question.” “Why not?” “Because I’ve just discovered I’ve been abducted by extraterrestrials as a form of adult entertainment.” He nodded, a muscle in his jaw clenching, and she knew that her avoidance of the question had somehow given him the exact answer he’d expected. “Leandros,” she said, hating the almost pleading sound in her voice. “Barry has to be worried about where I am. I don’t want that.” He nodded again. “Is he worried about who you might be fucking too?” She flinched as if he’d slapped her. But then, his words hurt far more anyway. So they were back to the distrust. Back to anger. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. He had to be as confused as she was about…well, everything. The situation would be confusing, even without the alien abduction. Although she hardly felt it was fair to treat her like the slut in this situation. “You know,” she pointed out, “I wasn’t the one who suggested the Vegas rule idea. You did that, and to be honest, it didn’t exactly seem like a foreign idea to you. Who do you have waiting at home?” His eyes narrowed and again that muscle in his jaw ticked. “Why don’t you worry about Barry, and I’ll worry about my own love life.”
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Eve stared at him, wondering if despite what Lubda had said, the alien chemicals had somehow transformed him into that sweet, considerate man in the shower. Because without them, he was arrogant and angry. And to think, when they’d first woken up in bed together this morning, she’d been about to tell him she planned to end things with Barry. She still planned to end things. Those chemicals might have affected her emotions concerning Leandros, but they couldn’t affect what she knew was true about herself and Barry. If she truly loved Barry, she wouldn’t be feeling the way she did about this arrogant jerk. She and Barry never should have gotten engaged. They were both settling. She had been avoiding the truth for a long time because Barry was a friend and a nice guy and she wanted somebody who belonged to her. Finally, after her years alone, without a family, without anybody. And she’d believed she should love Barry. But she didn’t. Not like he deserved. And like she deserved. She focused on Leandros, where he stood leaning a hip against the wall, his arms crossed, his eyes dark, bitter. She wouldn’t tell Leandros all this now, not when he was acting like such an asshole. He probably wouldn’t believe her even if she did. “So this whole partner switch thing is really going to work out well for a gal like you, huh?” His lips curled into a sneer. Again his words struck her like a physical blow. But this time she didn’t let the pain show. She simply held her head up high and stated coolly, “Yeah, it just might.” And before she could even see Leandros’s reaction, the room dissolved around her.
Beau found Cassie hurled face-down on the bed, pounding her fists into the pillow. “Cass?” he said, tentatively sitting beside her. “Go away. I don’t know you.” Her voice was muffled by the pillow. “Yes, you do.” He stroked her hair, which was tousled from their lovemaking, then sleep. “I’d say you know me just fine.”
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She sat up. Her eyes were red-rimmed again, but she’d stopped crying. “No, I don’t. Didn’t you hear what that—thing—said in there? We were forced to have sex with each other. It was all chemicals.” Beau took her hand, half expecting her to pull it away. She didn’t. “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t have sex with a chemical. I had sex with you. I wanted it to happen.” “But how do you know?” “I just do. If I’d had the choice, I would’ve gone slower the first time. But I wanted you without the chemicals.” He ran his thumb over her chin. “Trust me.” Her eyes were deep green and wide. “I do trust you.” “See?” He squeezed her hand. “The aliens’ chemicals made us horny, but they can’t make us trust each other.” “Are you sure of that?” Beau hesitated, and then decided honesty was the best policy. “No. I’m not sure of anything when it comes to the abilities of four-eyed asexual aliens. But I know that you’re scared, and I know that you want comfort, and I know that I probably should be pretending that I know what the hell I’m talking about so I can make you feel better, and if alien chemicals can make me know all that, then hell, they must be some chemicals, that’s all.” To his surprise, Cassie nodded. “That makes sense.” Had it? Good. “I also know that I care about you.” Her eyes melted. “Oh, Beau. I care about you, too.” He felt warmth suffuse his chest, until he remembered the truth. He’d popped her cherry. It was natural she would feel a bond with her first lover, especially while he was still her only lover. It wouldn’t matter a damn in the real world, when she found a guy of her own class and type. When she had sex with someone else. As if she could read his mind, she frowned. “But it said—Beau, it said they were going to change the pairings. They’re going to make us have sex with other people. Not just each other.”
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Her face was so full of panic and fear that he reached out to take her into his arms. And then everything—the bed, the room, and Cassie—dissolved.
Cassie blinked hard, trying to focus her eyes on her surroundings. Somehow, she’d moved. Or the room had moved. She wasn’t in the bedroom with Beau any more, she was… Oh, my. The room looked like a dungeon. It had gray stone walls, studded with flaming torches, and a high arched ceiling. There were actual manacles hanging from the walls in massive iron loops. Heavy wooden tables held a variety of…well, she didn’t know what they were, for the most part. Implements of some sort. She recognized a whip, and chains, and something that looked like a leather blindfold. Those were the things she could understand the uses of, anyway. But there were also things that looked like metal eggs, things that looked like strange clamps and hooks, things that looked like enormous— “They’re enormous penises,” she whispered. “Dildoes,” came a voice from the corner. She whipped her head in that direction, and saw Leandros. He was bare-chested and his legs were encased in tight black leather trousers that clung to his powerful thighs and bulging crotch. “I imagine there’s a vibrator or two in there, too. Along with the butt-plugs and the nipple clamps. The aliens have given us a regular kinky smorgasbord.” Cassie tried to back away, but she bumped into the cold wall behind her. “Where are Beau and Eve?” Leandros’s eyes narrowed, and she could see his jaw clench. “I don’t know.” He kicked the wall, hard. “Shit. The fucking aliens have mixed us up, and they’re going to start pumping in their chemicals any minute.” He punched the wall, too, for good measure. “Eve’s already got another man in real life, and now she’s going to end up having sex with somebody else. Who’s not me.”
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He punched the wall again, hard enough to rattle the manacles next to him. Cassie winced. When Leandros turned his dark eyes to her again, he looked almost frantic. “I can’t fucking handle this, Cassie. I’m so jealous already that I want to tear her fiancé’s head off for ever having touched her. And I’m not a jealous man, I never get jealous.” Cassie swallowed. Her throat suddenly hurt. Her body suddenly hurt. “Do you think they will have sex? Beau and—Eve?” Leandros ran his hands through his hair. “You heard what the alien said. When they pump in the chemicals, we have to respond. Shit,” he muttered vehemently under his breath. She didn’t want to know, but she couldn’t help asking. “Is—is Eve good at sex?” “Amazing,” Leandros breathed. “Beau would probably like that,” she said sadly. “Somebody who knew what they were doing.” For the first time, Leandros looked at her and actually seemed to see her. “Damn, I’m sorry, Cassie, I—” His eyes dipped briefly from her face to look at her body, and his eyes widened. “Wow, that’s some outfit,” he said. She looked down at herself. At first, all she could see were her breasts, which were pushed upwards and outwards. Investigating, she found that she had been strapped into some sort of corset and bustier, made of black leather. It barely covered her breasts from the nipple downward, pinched in at her waist, and ended in garters just before a pair of very brief black leather panties. Black fishnet stockings covered her legs, and she wore a pair of knee-high black leather stiletto boots. “I look like a whore!” she cried. She looked at Leandros for confirmation, but he only swallowed and kept his mouth shut. “Oh God,” she said, the full enormity of the situation hitting her for the first time, “the aliens are going to make me have sex with you.”
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Leandros shook his head, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “No way, honey. I’ve never had sex with a woman who wasn’t begging for it, and I’m not going to start now.” “But when they pump in the chemicals—” As if answering her words, the now-familiar hissing sound filled the room, and she smelled that exciting, arousing scent. Her breasts began to ache, the nipples hardening and jutting out of the top of her bustier. A thick coil of need began in her belly. The leather underwear she wore was too tight, uncomfortable, soaked by the juices that suddenly gathered in her pussy. Leandros had frozen, as she had. He was a very attractive man, lean and muscular, and as masculine as Beau, though in a different way. He was taller than Beau, his hair shorter, his stance more practiced. His nipples were erect, like hers, she noticed in almost an abstract way over the thrumming of her own body. Her eager eyes searched out his crotch, and saw the long ridge of his erection straining against his leather pants. She wanted him. She shook her head and pressed back against the wall as if it would save her from her own body. “I can’t,” she gasped. Leandros clenched his fists. “No,” he muttered. “I’m not going to. I’m not going to have sex with a woman who really wants somebody else.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well as her. The hiss, again. The fire within her became even hotter. She needed a man, any man, Leandros, inside her, filling her, pounding her toward orgasm. The friction of the leather panties between her legs was unbearable. She hooked her fingers in them and pulled them down her legs, over the high-heeled boots, and off. She tossed them aside and watched Leandros’s gaze follow their trajectory, and then snap back to her body, to her now naked crotch. Every movement he made seemed important, exciting, weighted with sexual significance.
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He groaned. “I’m in enough trouble here, you don’t have to make it hard—more difficult.” The air against the swollen lips of her pussy was maddening. “Leandros, I need to have sex!” He took a step toward her and her body sang with anticipation. “Now I know how an alcoholic on the wagon feels in a bar,” he gritted. Somehow, through the erotic haze in her brain, one corner of sanity remained, and that corner seized on what he’d said. Alcoholic. She’d read about their cravings for booze, how they could disregard everything they cared about just for one drink, that led to another, that led to another… If she gave in to her lust for Leandros, what would it lead to? Would she become a ravening sexual predator? Would she become something dirty, weak, something Beau would never want again? “So no man had ever touched you here, Cassie? Besides me?” She heard his voice in her ears, remembered him kneeling between her legs and looking at her with such gentleness and passion. Quickly, she dodged sideways, away from Leandros and behind one of the heavy tables. “I might look like a slut, but I’m not going to be one,” she vowed. Trying her best to ignore the unignorable clamor of her body. “You look incredibly sexy,” Leandros growled, coming up to the other side of the table. She saw him grip it with his hands, so tight his knuckles went white. “If something doesn’t happen, we’re going to end up chasing each other all over this room until one of us decides to give in.” “It’s not going to be me,” she said, although she couldn’t stop her eyes from traveling over Leandros’s body again, couldn’t stop her mouth from watering at the thought of tasting his skin, couldn’t stop her mind from coming up with images of the two of them together, flesh to flesh, his hard cock pumping into her.
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He was thinking the same thing; she could tell from the fire in his dark eyes, and the way they wrinkled up in something like pain. He tore his gaze away from her, down to the table between them, and she knew exactly how wrenching even that small action was. And then he breathed in, sharply, and grabbed at something on the table. “I’ve got it,” he said. “What?” For a heart stopping moment, she’d thought he was going to leap over the table and claim her. Actually, that wasn’t such a bad idea. She lifted her knee to climb onto the table. “Here.” Leandros was holding something out to her. Something long, thick, and purple. She reached out her hand to grab his wrist and pull him onto the table with her. Anticipating her move, he leaned backwards so only what he was holding was within her grasp. She grabbed it, intending to haul him closer using it, and then she saw what it was. It was about nine inches long, made of solid rubbery material, and it was shaped like a penis, even down to the veins and ridges. As soon as she had hold of it, Leandros let go and retreated a couple of steps. “It’s a vibrator,” he said. “Use it. Instead of me. I’ll stay on this side of the table and jerk off. But God you’ve got to let me watch.” The big plastic penis was cold and heavy in her hand and it was nothing like real sex, nothing like what she really wanted. But it wasn’t another man. And her need was so great, so urgent, that she didn’t care what satisfied it. Hadn’t she already proven that, by reaching for a man other than Beau? She found a ring at the bottom of the vibrator and turned it, and the thing leapt to life in her hands, buzzing and shaking. Startled, she looked over at Leandros, and saw that he had unfastened his leather pants and pulled them down his legs and was kicking them aside.
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Oh wow. His penis was huge, sculpted, rock-hard and bobbing with his movements. The curve of it was different from Beau’s, and the color; it was longer, but not quite so thick. How different would it feel inside her? She tore her eyes away and backed up until she felt her thighs colliding with another table. Leandros’s plan could work. It had to. But she had to hurry. She swept the paraphernalia off the table behind her without checking what it was and hoisted herself backwards onto it, her legs spread, her feet in the high-heeled boots planted on the table top on either side. The big purple vibrator hadn’t stopped buzzing. Her pussy felt gaping, drenched, desperate. She touched the tip of the vibrator to the tip of her clit, and jolted her hips with the sudden, incredible pleasure, like an electric shock. She held it there for a moment, feeling her body adjust to the shaking caress. It was like a clever finger, but different from how it felt when she touched herself. Experimentally, she ran the whole length of the vibrator against her pussy, parting her labia, rubbing against her clit, backwards and forward. “Jesus,” she heard Leandros rasp, and she looked up from what she was doing to herself to see him standing behind the other table, his cock in his hand, his eyes on her. He was stroking himself with his palm, from balls to head and back down again, his fingers twisting a little at the tip when he reached it. The sight was hugely erotic; she quickened the movements of the vibrator against herself. She was so wet and so excited that she could feel her pussy lips hugging the shaft of the vibrator, feel her clit jumping whenever the shaking toy touched it. She needed more. She reached down with her left hand and spread open her labia so the vibrator could rub her clit more closely. The big instrument was sticky with her juices. She moaned with the pleasure it was giving her. “Oh, God.” Leandros’s whole body stiffened and jerked, and she saw a cord of white liquid spurt from the tip of his cock and splash onto the table in front of him. So that was what it looked like when a man ejaculated.
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Beau had looked like that when he came inside her. The thought sent her sensations into overdrive, kicked her into her own orgasm. She held the shaking vibrator hard against her and cried out as ecstasy took her over and tossed her like a rag doll. When she opened her eyes again, Leandros was leaning against the table, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “These chemicals are really screwing up my stamina,” he said. “I’ve got the control of a thirteen-year-old.” “Huh?” She tried to clear her foggy mind. “Forget it.” He tossed back his head, flicking his hair out of his face. “I didn’t want to last very long anyway, or I might have been tempted again to touch you. I think we did okay, considering, don’t y—” A hiss. The scent. Another punch of lust throughout her body. “Then again, they’re doing wonders for my recovery time,” Leandros said, and straightened, and she could see that his cock was hard again and he had it in his hand. “Don’t these aliens ever get sick of watching this?” “They want us to go so crazy we’ll fuck each other,” Cassie gasped, and with the words she wanted to, so badly, that she thought she’d scream. Instead she plunged the wildly vibrating dildo deep into her pussy, crying out as the unyielding plastic dick penetrated her, spread its oscillations through her womb. Not what she wanted. She wanted Beau, his hot body inside her, stretching her as only he could. His breath on her skin, his low southern voice in her ear, his hair brushing over her skin like a caress of its own. She couldn’t have it. Not now. Instead she thought of him and pulled the vibrator out of herself, and then shoved it back in. It filled her vagina, but it didn’t fill the need inside her. But it had its own type of pleasure, sliding out and then in, deep, steady, relentless, more urgently now. “You’re a very sexy woman,” Leandros said. “Two days ago I would’ve thought I’d died and gone to heaven to see you doing this.”
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“Two days ago I never would’ve imagined it,” she panted. His hand on his penis was moving fast, gripping tight, forcing blood up to the purple head. Instinctively, she quickened her own movements to match his. This is how a man pleasures himself. I can learn from this. I can use it to please Beau. Leandros’s hand was almost a blur; she tried to match his speed but she couldn’t, her pussy was clamping down on the vibrator because she was coming again, and this time she didn’t watch Leandros come but instead threw her head back and yelled an inarticulate outburst to the high ceiling as she pulsed powerfully around the hard rod inside her. This one took a few moments to recover from. She pulled the vibrator slowly from her pussy, and sat up. Leandros was on his knees on the floor. She dimly remembered him growling out his own climax, when she’d been busy with hers. “You might as well give up,” he shouted, and his voice was harsh and tortured. “I’m not going to touch her. I’ll wank my own dick off first, and then your experiment won’t work the way you planned, will it?” Cassie half-expected another hiss of chemicals. She held her breath. Instead, the dungeon dimmed, melted away, and she was standing alone in a chromed and tiled bathroom, the vibrator still buzzing in her hand.
“‘I’ll wank my own dick off.’ That’s a very interesting idiom.” Andyr tapped the tip of an appendage on the desk. “I wonder if it is possible.” “Not in my experiment,” growled Nisom. “I have too much invested in these Earthlings to let them damage their working parts.” Andyr rippled his eyestalks in a placatory gesture. “I was only speculating. My interest is theoretical, not practical, and precipitated by the unexpected behavior of the Earthlings.”
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Lubda paced the room. “I knew that something like this would happen. They have bonded together according to their first pairings, and are now emotionally reluctant to engage in sexual activity with alternative partners.” “Reluctant to engage in sexual activity?” Andyr repeated. “On the contrary, they engaged in sexual activity as predicted. The only unforeseen aspect of this scenario was that the Earthlings did not touch each other. However, they did follow through the stages of human sexual response, from arousal to completion, and each seemed to derive pleasure from the sexual actions of the other.” “It was entertaining,” Nisom said. “I was interested in what the Cassandra woman did with the penile simulacrum. And the Leandros man’s response to watching her. I think Odilians will thoroughly enjoy watching such actions. Especially live. The unpredictability of their reactions to the scenarios is exactly what we want—as long as they perform. The experiment is a continued success.” “But they only chose to behave in such a way because they were forced to by their central nervous systems,” protested Lubda. “They didn’t wish to play with the simulacra, or to interact in that way.” Nisom shushed Lubda with a wave of an appendage. “The Earthlings’ wishes are irrelevant to this project. And in any case they are quickly abandoned when the humans are sexually aroused.” “But their wishes were not abandoned—did you hear their conversation?” “Your knowledge of Earthling language is greater than ours, I will grant you,” Nisom said. “As most Odilians do not comprehend Earthling language at all beyond the staples of ‘Harder’, ‘I’m coming’, and ‘Fuck me’, I do not think conversations of this kind will be detrimental to their enjoyment of the act.” Lubda’s eyestalks clustered together. “I think you are missing the point, Nisom.” “I believe the encounter was a qualified success,” Andyr interrupted smoothly. “As you say, Nisom, Odilians would find such masturbatory acts as we have witnessed to be entertaining. I believe, however, that full sexual interaction is more interesting to Odilians, and the recent experiment would be useful only as a variation. Therefore, I
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suggest we formulate ways of prompting full sexual intercourse even if the subjects are, as Lubda posits, reluctant.” “I disagree. If the subjects are reluctant, this is good reason for us to desist from forcing their behavior. They are sentient life forms, as we are.” Nisom rounded on Lubda. “You have suddenly become very concerned with the Earthlings’ welfare. What have you been doing, Lubda, that has changed your attitude so radically?” Lubda seemed to shrink back. “Nothing. I have done nothing.” “I suggest we limit the availability of genital substitutes,” Andyr said. “We do not want to give the Earthlings the option of finding satisfaction in inanimate objects instead of in each other.” “Agreed,” said Nisom, turning away from Lubda in the interest of this new topic. “We will set aside the Dildo Dungeon hologram for the present.” “I also suggest we adjust the delivery of pheromones,” continued Andyr. “A stronger dosage is needed to overcome initial inhibitions with new partners, but I suggest that a prolonged exposure would be better than administering the chemicals in concentrated doses. This would allow for seduction and foreplay.” “Market research has suggested that Odilians enjoy watching seduction and foreplay,” Nisom agreed. “Adjust the dosing mechanism for continuous exposure, Andyr, and recalibrate the formula accordingly. Lubda, which scenario do you believe would prompt the most satisfactory sexual response?” Lubda’s quills quivered uncomfortably. “Perhaps a completely novel atmosphere would make the humans feel distant from their normal responses and encourage them to behave as we wish. However, I—” “Agreed.” Nisom turned to the nearest screen and scrolled through the huge list of holodeck programs, all specially designed to provide humans with sexual titillation. “Let us see…novel atmosphere to Earthlings…an alien planet is novel, but perhaps not interesting to Odilians…the same applies to weightlessness. And then there are the manga settings, but they are perhaps better not attempted by new subjects. Oh, here we
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are.” Nisom looked up and nodded. “Yes. I believe that a historical Earth setting would be of interest to Odilians, yet unfamiliar enough to Earthlings to disarm their inhibitions.” A flick of computer keys, a touch on the screen, and the holodeck monitors filled with the picture of a canopied four-poster bed, lit by gaslight and a roaring fire. “Yes,” Nisom said in a satisfied tone, “I believe the Lord Chatterson’s Whore scenario will work perfectly.”
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Chapter Seven
“Leand…” Eve’s cry trailed off as she saw the new room materialize around her and realized that he likely wouldn’t be there. The switch. It was happening now. She couldn’t deal with this. She lifted her hands up to cover her face, when a sweet, heavily English accented voice said, “Milady, would like me to help you with your gown?” Eve spun around to see a small woman in a black dress with white mop cap, watching her. The woman kept her hands folded at her waist and her head down just slightly. But Eve could see she was in her thirties with blue eyes and dark blonde curls. “Who are you? Have you been abducted too?” Eve asked. “Abducted?” The woman frowned, and then she smiled. “Milady, I can see your nerves are getting away with you. ’Tis natural on your wedding night. But my lord is a good man. He will be kind and gentle with you.” “My wedding night?” Eve glanced down at herself, for the first time realizing she no longer wore the black cocktail dress, but now a white dress with a high neckline, muttonchop sleeves and lots of lace. Underneath, she could feel the bite of a corset into her skin. And it was supposed to be her wedding night. Great. These aliens seemed determined to screw with her head in every way possible. She turned to cast a look about the room. A fire burned in a marble fireplace. Flames from what appeared to be gaslight sconces flickered against the pale blue walls. A large canopied bed with gold damask curtains waited on a dais in the center of the large room. The mattress was piled with pillows and a thick quilt also in gold. A bottle of wine and two wine glasses sat on the nightstand. The room was warm and cozy, and Eve realized it had been set up for seduction. Her heart sank.
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“Let me help you, Milady,” the woman said again. Eve froze as the woman’s fingers began to unfasten a long row of buttons on the back of her gown. Was this her switch? Was she expected to have sex with this woman? “You mustn’t dally. Milord will be up soon.” Apparently not. Unless the aliens had planned a threesome. Eve glanced over her shoulder at the woman. Oh, she was so going to hell. “Who is Milord?” Eve found her voice to ask. Even though they’d just had a hideous fight, she hoped it was Leandros. Please let it be Leandros. The maid laughed. “Milady, you really are all a-fluster. I know it is not my place to say, but you needn’t worry over tonight. I have worked for Milord for near five years now, and he has never been anything but considerate and generous. I’m sure—I’m sure he will be no different as your—lover.” It was on the tip of Eve’s tongue to tell the woman that if she liked him so much, then she should do him. Whoever he was. The woman knelt to help Eve step out of the large, ornate dress. Underneath she wore a white cotton corset and bloomer-type things. For the first time, she realized the crotch of the bloomers was split, and if she opened her legs, even just a little, the whole world could see everything. “Do I have a robe?” Eve glanced down again to see her breasts practically spilling over the top of the plain cotton corset. “Milord had a nightgown made for tonight. As a gift,” the maid said as she went to the wardrobe and hung up the wedding gown. Then she scooped up the nightgown, displaying it proudly. “It will look lovely on you.” The nightgown, Eve could see in the flickering light, was worse than her current outfit. The thin material was sheer and absolutely see-through. “I don’t know,” Eve said slowly.
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The maid laughed, then held the gown out to admire it herself. “’Tis a little naughty. But with a fine husband such as yours, you will want to be a little naughty.” The maid blushed. “If you don’t mind me saying so, Milady.” Again, Eve considered offering her “husband” to this woman. She really did seem to dig him. The woman walked over to her, but before she could start to help Eve get out of the corset, she heard a noise. Beau suddenly stood on the other side of the bed. “Shit,” he said in his low southern drawl. “What is this?” Before Eve could answer, the maid immediately stepped forward, giving a slight curtsy. “I’m sorry, Milord, I did not expect you quite so soon.” Beau blinked. “Yeah, I didn’t expect to be here quite so soon.” Then he frowned. “Who are you? Who is she?” he directed the question to Eve. “I’m Maggie, Milord.” She curtsied again. “Your lady’s maid.” Maggie scurried over to the wardrobe to replace the nightgown and straighten up the rest of the clothing. “My lady?” Beau said. Then dawning widened his eyes. He looked at Eve. “Oh, you’re my lady.” Eve nodded regretfully. “I think that’s the plan.” “Shit,” Beau muttered again. She couldn’t agree more. Not that Beau wasn’t a handsome man. And a nice one too. But she didn’t want him. She wanted Leandros. Brooding jerk that he was. Of course, he was probably in the middle of his own switch. And Eve doubted he was having any hesitation fucking the curvy little Cassie. “Is there anything else, Milady?” Maggie asked. “Would you happen to know how to escape this spaceship?” Eve asked. Maggie frowned, then shook her head. “No, Milady. Sorry.” She curtsied again, then disappeared out a door near the wardrobe. The door then disappeared behind her. “Was that chick another abductee?” Beau asked, still staring at the wall where the woman and the door had been.
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“I don’t think so,” Eve said. “If she was, the aliens have brainwashed her or something. She definitely didn’t seem upset about being here.” “These aliens are warped, man.” He cast a look around the room, and then down at himself. He was dressed in a dark frock coat, a white, ruffled shirt, which was undone halfway down his chest, tight trousers and shiny, knee-high, black boots. “I look like Adam Ant,” he said, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, I look like Madonna in her ‘Like a Virgin’ phase. But I guess that’s what I’m supposed to be.” “Madonna?” Eve smiled. “No, a virgin. I think the scenario the aliens have put us in is a wedding night seduction type thing. The lord and his virgin bride.” Beau stared at her, his blue eyes roaming down her. She couldn’t tell if he was appreciating her little costume or not. He closed his eyes for a moment, then swiped his hand through his long hair. Apparently not. When he opened his eyes, he didn’t look at her. “Cassie was a virgin.” His voice was so low, Eve almost didn’t hear him. Then she wished she hadn’t. Cassie had been a virgin. Good lord. The poor girl. Then Eve’s thoughts went straight to what she might be doing with Leandros now. Was Leandros excited about a virginal lover—or nearly virginal? Close enough. Much closer than Eve. “Why didn’t those fucking aliens give us this scenario the first time?” Beau again ran his hands through his hair. Eve knew us referred to him and Cassie. Beau paced the room, his movements agitated, frustrated. He was falling for Cassie. Eve could see it in the anguished look on his face. Her chest tightened with pain. She understood his feelings. Despite herself, she was falling for Leandros. But he believed her to be a liar and cheat. And he was screwing Cassie right this minute. She just knew it.
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Over the crackle of the fire, Eve heard the hiss of the chemicals. Smelled them. Her nipples pebbled against the cotton of her corset. Her pussy tingled. She glanced over to Beau. His body was tense, his shoulders looking impossibly wide and erect under the cut of his jacket. “It’s starting.” Beau came closer to her, then stopped. His eyes locked with hers. “They are going to give us those chemicals until we do it.” Eve nodded and licked her lips. Yes. Already she wanted to do it. Her pussy was wet and needy, the faintest brush of air through the split in the crotch, driving her mad. She closed her legs tighter. It didn’t help. Part of her wondered why she was even trying to quell her desire. Leandros wouldn’t. And even if Cassie was hesitant, he could seduce her. Eve had never met a man more seductive. Just a smoldering look and she was moosh. “They are doing the same thing to Leandros and Cassie,” she said. “And Leandros isn’t going to hold back.” “What?” Eve could see the anger in Beau’s usually laid-back features. “Leandros and I had a fight before the switch. And I think Leandros will have sex with her, not only because the chemicals are so strong, but because he’s angry with me.” Beau growled deep in his throat. The hiss of more chemicals sounded overhead. He looked at her, and his anger and frustration became laced with desire. But he didn’t move closer. His hands remained fisted at his sides, although Eve could see his thick erection prodding the buttons of his tight pants. Another short hiss of chemicals. Eve breathed in deep, the expanding of her chest causing the cotton to rasp over her nipples. She gasped and stared at Beau. His gaze roamed lazily, sexily down her body. Again she pulled in a deep breath and received another tantalizing chafe from the corset. Beau was a fine-looking man. His hair, longer and straighter than Leandros’s, fell over his broad shoulders. His eyes were lighter, a gray-blue. Not dark and smoldering. But rather almost sleepy and still sexy. His lips were less pouty than Leandros’s, but pinker and well-sculpted, surrounded by a trimmed goatee.
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What would his goatee feel like against her aching flesh? What would it feel like to have those strong lips and prickly hair between her thighs? She remembered the feeling of Leandros’s mouth on her pussy, of his tongue lapping her clit. She moaned. “I don’t want to want you,” she told Beau. She held onto that memory of Leandros, but it only made her hornier. More aware of Beau. “Dang, Eve, I don’t want to want you either.” As if to warn them, another short hiss of chemicals invaded the room. “Do you think he’s fucking Cassie right now?” Beau asked, stepping closer to her. An image of Leandros throwing Cassie down on a bed and spreading her legs wide flashed in Eve’s mind. Damn it, even as the image hurt her, it aroused her. Helplessly, she moved a hand down to the opening in her bloomers. She stroked the moist curls of her sex, parting herself. “Shit, Eve,” Beau groaned. “Don’t do that. I’m trying to keep control here.” He stepped closer, within arm’s reach of her. She wanted him to touch her. She tried to stop, but couldn’t. It felt too good. Beau watched Eve’s hand, stroking herself. She parted the crotch of a white, ruffled thing she was wearing wider, her fingers sliding deep, disappearing into the dark curls of her pussy. He remembered Cassie masturbating for him, her legs spread wide, her head thrown back. “Fuck,” he growled. He didn’t want this. Yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off Eve. She was taller than Cassie and more slender, her curves gentler, subtler. Her breasts were small, but rounded and firm with tight, little nipples poking against the cotton of her top. Beau clenched his fists, willing himself not to touch those boobs. Hissssss. More chemicals scented the air with the musky aroma of sex. He stepped closer and cupped his hands over her firm mounds. She gasped, and he started to pull away. Eve caught his wrists and brought his palms back to her. “I need you to touch me,” she told him. His closed his eyes and did as she asked. Her nipples stabbed at his palms, small nipples like hard, little beads. He imagined larger, poutier breasts, nipples like raspberries, ripe and delicious.
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He felt hands on his chest, working the buttons of his shirt. Then fingers, long and sure, stroked his skin. Not small and inquisitive and a little unsure fingers. He imagined those hands on Leandros. He growled and moved one of his hands to Eve’s back, pulling her tighter. She panted as he gently squeezed her nipple, plucking it like a guitar string. She moaned and arched against him. The sound was sexy and arousing, and his cock threatened to burst at the very sound, but still in the back of his mind, he registered the moan wasn’t the breathless whimpers that Cassie made. His hand stilled. He opened his eyes. Eve’s eyes were closed too. Was she doing the same thing? Was she imagining he was Leandros? He didn’t care. They both wanted other people. Again, he pictured what Cassie was doing now. Was Leandros sampling her lush breasts? Was he sliding his cock deep inside her? And was she enjoying it? She’d been scared of the switch, but that could have been solely because she felt a bond to him because he was her first. And he wouldn’t be her last. The pain in his chest almost obliterated the passion spiraling through his body. “Beau,” Eve frowned up at him. He could see her confusion, even past the desire darkening her brown eyes to nearly black. “I just can’t do this.” He took a step back, and dropped his hands to his sides. “My dick is telling to hump you like a mindless madman, but for the moment, I’m actually in more control than my dick. And I don’t want this. Neither do you. You want Leandros. I want Cassie. It’s that simple.” Another hiss, more chemicals. They both looked around. Then another wave of need gripped Beau, like it literally had him by the balls. His cock threatened to rip his fancy pants right down the front. But still he remained rooted to his spot. “You’re right. I want Leandros. Not anybody else.” Eve groaned. “But I ache so much.” “Me too.”
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Another hiss. Beau took a deep breath trying to calm the next wave of lust that hit him, although he knew it actually defeated the purpose. The chemicals pulled deep into his lungs and straight to his cock. “I have to touch myself,” Eve told him as a warning. He nodded, and followed suit, popping open the front of his trousers. “Maybe if we just masturbate.” He caught his cock in his hand, pumping the swollen rod in his fist. He looked over at Eve as she sank her hand back into the slit at her crotch. She bit her bottom lip as she began stroking her clit. Beau watched, wanting to cross the room and bury himself in the wet pussy so easily accessible through those strange underpants. He closed his eyes, trying not to hear the strangled, little noises she made in the back of her throat. He heard her cry out, and his own release mimicked hers. He shouted, not only at the intensity of his orgasm, but at the victory of not touching her. Hisssss. He groaned again as arousal reignited in his body before his cock even had a chance to grow soft. But this new wave of desire wasn’t the same as it had been when he’d been with Cassie. That had been intense, barely restrained. This was slower, building steadily, rather than a wild onslaught. He glanced over to Eve, who studied him, her eyes drifting from his face to his once again erect penis. This build up might be slower but was just as dangerous. “They are giving less of the chemicals, but more often,” Eve realized, just as he had. “Like you said, this scenario is supposed to be a seduction.” Beau nodded. “They want finesse. And I bet punchin’ my munchkin isn’t what they had in mind.” Eve smiled, but her gaze drifted back down to his crotch. “Well, I wouldn’t call that thing a munchkin, but I think you’re right.” Another hiss. Beau swallowed, trying to will his body not to react. He focused on the fire blazing in the grate. Each flamed that lapped the logs created images of fiery tongues licking his erection. His cock pulsed with the vivid imagery.
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Hisssssss. “Are they fuckin’ trying to kill us here?” he muttered, feeling as though his whole body was going to implode if he didn’t get sex, real sex, soon. “Just give up for Christ’s sake!” Closing his eyes, he willed his demand to happen, for the aliens to send him back to Cassie who he would gladly seduce for the rest of the night. Or whatever time it was. For hours. Shit, as horny as he was, he could go for days. “This is torture,” Eve said, her voice trailing off into a slight whimper. Beau opened his eyes. Eve had moved closer. He fought against the urge to just grab her and throw her onto the bed. “If they are doing the same thing to them, Leandros is going to be unstoppable.” She whimpered again, and Beau actually reached forward to grab her. His only thought to hear the noise she made when he sank himself deep inside her. Then Eve’s words worked past his all-consuming lust. “Unstoppable?” Eve nodded, biting her bottom lip. She released a shuddering breath, her eyes roaming down Beau, her dark eyes stopping on his erection. “Leandros can be— demanding.” A knot twisted in Beau’s chest. Was that a challenge he saw in her eyes? Was she wondering how demanding he could be? He’d like to say his ego wasn’t hurt, but it was. Not only in relation to Eve but in relation to Cassie too. Was she comparing his lovemaking to Leandros’s right this minute? And was Beau coming up lacking? Another hiss sounded overhead. “Shit!” Before he realized what he intended to do, he grabbed Eve. He expected to her to be startled by his brusque touch, but instead she sank against him, her fingers knotting in his long hair. Her pelvis rubbed against him, her body demanding attention. Her eyes were smoky and heavy with lust.
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His gaze left her eyes, drifting down to her lips. Lowering his head, he planned to capture her mouth. But at the last moment, he pulled back. He’d kissed Cassie to comfort her, to show her how special she was. He’d kissed her out of affection. And the last time, before this switch, her kissed her out of real caring, real…love. In this weird world, the kisses he’d shared with her meant more than sex ever could. “Eve, they aren’t going to stop until they get what they want.” “I know,” she agreed. She squirmed against him, crisp cotton and the heat of her skin teasing his throbbing cock. “I can’t stop thinking about Cassie,” he told her. She nodded. “I’m thinking about Leandros too.” “Then let’s just do this,” he said, pulling her tighter to him. She moaned and arched against him. “Turn around,” he muttered far more roughly than he intended. Again, he was surprised at Eve’s ready reaction; she promptly did as he asked. But Eve was a smart woman. She knew as well as he did, it would be easier to pretend they were with the ones they really wanted if they didn’t have to look into each other’s faces. More chemicals flooded the room and he growled deep in his throat as his lust grew to a fevered pitch. He gripped her hips, relaxing his hold when he felt how slight she was under his hands. With as much gentleness as he could manage in the midst of his sexual madness, he positioned himself so his legs pressed hers apart. She leaned forward and braced her hands on the bed. Her small rounded ass jutted up in the air, the slit in her underwear parting to reveal pink, slick flesh and tight, wet curls. Beau groaned at the sight. He slid a finger down the crack of her ass to those inviting, parted lips. She groaned, the sound muffled in the cushion of the quilts and mattress. He closed his eyes and stroked her, his middle finger sinking into her soaked pussy as his index finger found her clit. She moved helplessly on his hand, desperate for release.
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All the while, Beau kept his eyes closed and imagined it was Cassie finding her pleasure in the palm of his hand. As soon as he felt her vagina tighten in short quivers around his fingers, he shifted himself and entered her. Filling her with one powerful stroke. An inarticulate cry, then she began to move, mimicking his intense thrusts. Cassie. Cassie. He kept chanting her name in his head as though if he said it enough, he’d open his eyes and find her there. When he did open his eyes, he saw tousled hair, longer and a few shades lighter than Cassie’s. And a long, slender back and subtly flared hips, not well-rounded hips. Hell, even the vagina gloving his cock was different. Tight and wet, but somehow nothing like the one he was trying to imagine. “Oh my God,” she cried out. “God yes! Leandros!” Beau froze. Try as he might, he hadn’t been able to imagine Eve as Cassie. Except for that very moment. Instead of hearing Eve’s voice, he heard Cassie’s. His Cassie calling out another man’s name. Instantly, he withdrew from Eve. He couldn’t do this. But that didn’t stop the lust that ripped through him and threatened to make his balls explode. Clamping his hand around his cock, he pumped it twice before a wad of come spurted onto the back of Eve’s ruffled underwear. He watched, dazed, as the semen soaked into the cotton. “Eve,” he said, his voice hoarse and emotional. “I’m sorry.” But he didn’t hear her reply as she and the room vanished.
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Chapter Eight
Cassie sighed in pleasure as the hot water sluiced over her body. It felt so good to get clean, to feel the shower massage her aching muscles. She soaped herself one more time, noticing how her breasts were sore, her nipples sensitive, how the skin of her sex was still swollen. It wasn’t surprising; she’d gone from being a sexual novice straight into the advanced class. Having her breasts sucked and licked, stroking her own clit for Beau before he plunged his huge dick inside her and fucked her silly. To say nothing of the leather and the vibrator. Her body would need to get used to the new attention. Especially if she wanted more of that kind of attention from Beau. She rinsed the last of the lather from her body. She felt fine, though. More than fine. She felt great. She and Leandros had managed to foil the aliens’ plans to make them switch partners. And if she’d done that so easily, she had no doubt that Beau and Eve had been able to, too. If they’d even been confronted with the same situation. Maybe the aliens had just decided to give up when she and Leandros hadn’t had sex. She couldn’t help feeling a tendril of doubt, though, as she climbed out of the shower and toweled herself dry in front of the mirror. Beau seemed to like her body. But Eve was beautiful, tall, slender, and sophisticated-looking. And she was bound to know so much more about sex than Cassie did. Maybe the real reason Leandros didn’t want to touch me was because next to Eve, I’m unattractive and awkward. As soon as the thought entered her head, she banished it. It was bad to let yourself get caught up in negativity. Ever since she’d read that positive affirmations could change a person’s life, she’d started every day saying at least two positive things to herself.
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She’d needed them this past year, slogging through legal books and sitting through interminable seminars. She hadn’t said any affirmations in a while, not since she got to this spaceship, anyway. Maybe that was why the doubts were crowding in now. She squared her shoulders and braced her hands against the sink as she looked at herself in the mirror, meeting her green eyes head-on. “Beau said he cared about me,” she said aloud. “And he said I drive him crazy with lust.” That helped. “Leandros didn’t touch me because he’s in love with Eve.” Actually he hadn’t said that, though Cassie thought that was what he’d meant. What he’d actually said was that Eve was amazing at sex. The thought brought another pang of jealousy, and she hurried on with her affirmations. “He said that I was very sexy, though. In sort of—an aesthetic way. I guess.” Of course, he’d been affected by the chemicals. As Beau had been, with her, when they’d had sex. “But Beau does care about me,” she said quickly. She knew that was true. There hadn’t been any chemicals in the room when he’d said that. “And if you care about somebody, you can resist the chemicals. And that’s just what I did.” There. She smiled at herself. She felt better. She hummed to herself as she rearranged her damp hair. Even remembering that she didn’t have any clothes except for the slut outfit didn’t really bother her. It was a sexy outfit. Beau would probably like it. Cassie did up the hooks of the bustier, watching how the leather plumped up her breasts into gravity-defying voluptuousness. Yes, Beau would definitely like this. She sat on the toilet seat to pull the stockings up her legs, and fastened them to the garters. She realized another reason why she was still aching, still tingling. She’d had two orgasms, but she hadn’t really had sex. She wasn’t as satisfied as she would have been if she’d been making love with Beau. Even though the effects of the chemicals must be
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wearing off—and Lubda had said that the chemicals would be cut off from their living quarters, so she couldn’t have been dosed up again—she was still turned on. And Beau was bound to feel the same way, when she saw him again. She could help him out with that, she thought, feeling a sexy smile on her lips. Where was he, anyway? Her forehead creased, and she peeked out the door to the bedroom. The bed was rumpled from where she’d thrown herself on it before, but the room was empty. She thought about going to find him, but then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and remembered she didn’t have any panties. She’d flung the leather ones that went with this outfit aside. They were probably still on the stone floor of the dungeon. Well, she might be dressed like a slut, but she wasn’t going to traipse all over this spaceship with her privates bare to the breeze. She slipped her legs into the stiletto boots and took a closer look at herself in the mirror. Her legs looked long and shapely, her waist tiny. The straps of her garters framed the dark curls of her pussy perfectly. She turned around and saw how the black leather contrasted with the pale globes of her ass, accentuated her hourglass figure. “I am sexy,” she said aloud. That was a good affirmation, too. Beau would probably like her better without any panties on, anyway. She hung up her towel carefully on the rail to dry. On her way out she saw the purple vibrator on the counter top, where she’d put it down to shower. She picked it up and brought it into the bedroom with her. She’d wait for Beau to turn up. He wouldn’t be long, especially once the aliens realized they weren’t going to get anywhere with him. They’d probably give up and return him to her right away. In a few minutes. Actually, he had been gone awhile. She’d had a very long shower. And there was all that time before, when she’d been in the dungeon with Leandros. She frowned. All the jealous thoughts crowded back into her brain again. She shook her head, decisively.
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“I’m sexy,” she said, loudly. She was very sexy. She was so incredibly sexy that she was going to drive Beau wild as soon as he saw her in this outfit. The sight of her was going to banish the sight of any other woman he’d ever seen from his memory. Cassie put down the vibrator on the bedside table and lay down on the bed. She needed a sexy pose. No, not just a sexy pose—she needed a ball-grabbing, droolinducing, erection-inspiring pose. She flung her arms to either side of herself, and spread her legs, and pouted her lips. No. That made her look like an inflatable sex doll. She sat up, bunched the pillows together against the headboard, and lay back against them, thrusting up her breasts. She let one hand fall to the side and touched the other to her hair, pulling her legs together. On second thoughts, she bent one of her knees, just enough to expose a tantalizing glimpse of the lips of her sex. She let her lids settle halfway down her eyes, and curled her lips into a demure smile. Demure, her butt. She looked like an idiot. She sighed and sat up. With a shimmer of the air, Beau appeared by the side of the bed. He was wearing a white ruffled shirt and a dark coat that reached to his thighs. It accentuated the broadness of his shoulders, and his hair looked even more shiny against its blackness. His legs were encased in tight, light-colored trousers, and glossy black knee-high boots. He was beautiful. Cassie caught her breath. And yet as she looked, she noticed more. His eyes were unfocused, the skin over his high cheekbones flushed. His mouth was open and his breath was coming in short pants. His shirt was unbuttoned nearly all the way to his navel, showing his gorgeous chest. And the fly of his trousers was wide open. She could see his penis, semi-erect, and still protruding from the material.
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“What—” she began to ask, but before she could finish Beau had seen her and leapt onto the bed, grabbing her by the wrists and pinning her with his hands. His thighs straddled her, his weight holding her captive. “What did he do to you?” he growled, his face inches from hers, his blue eyes stormy. His face looked savage with anger. Cassie knew Beau was a gentle man, he’d proven that to her, she’d been wrong to be scared of him when she’d first met him. But now, all gentleness was gone. His hands held her ruthlessly, and his body bore down on hers. She wasn’t scared of him; down deep she knew he just wasn’t capable of hurting her physically. But the emotion on his face scared her. And the way he looked like he’d been having sex, seconds before he’d arrived by her side. “Beau—” she gasped. “Did he fuck you? Did he?” The vehemence of his words jerked his body, and hers underneath him. She couldn’t answer, all her breath driven out of her by him. She could only stare up at him, wide-eyed. “I’ll fucking kill him. I swear I will.” Her laid-back, lazy, sweet Beau. Cassie dragged in a breath and shook her head. “He didn’t. Beau, he didn’t touch me.” “Don’t try to protect him. There’s no way he could have resisted you. Look at you, you’re dressed in leather. You don’t even have any panties on.” His eyes blazed. “Tell me what he did to you. I need to know.” His voice was hoarse, tortured. “Let go of me, Beau. You’re hurting me.” Instantly he released her wrists. She saw the dismay on his face as he registered the red marks he’d made on her skin. He looked at his hands as if they’d betrayed him. “Beau,” she said gently, “it’s all right. Leandros didn’t do anything to me.” He winced at the name. She reached up and took his face in her hands, made him look her in the eyes.
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“He didn’t touch me,” she said again, meeting his gaze openly. “We resisted the chemicals.” She saw the anger and jealousy gradually drain from his face. To be replaced by something else. “How?” he choked. Cassie reached to the bedside table and picked up the big vibrator. “I used this,” she said. “I made myself come with it. So I didn’t need to have sex with him.” Beau took the toy from her and examined its purple length, turning it over in his hands. It was still a little sticky with her juices. She thought briefly that she should have washed it off, but at least this way it was proof of what she said. “What did he do?” His voice was calmer, but it still didn’t sound like the Beau she knew. “He masturbated. He made himself come. Twice.” She remembered Leandros’s hand moving, quickly and expertly, over his own straining dick, and she swallowed with sudden shame. “I watched him, though. I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry, Beau.” “You—watched him. And he watched you.” She nodded. “That’s all, though.” She touched his face, his sculpted lips pressed tight together, his forehead furrowed and creased. “Nobody’s touched me besides you, Beau,” she whispered. “You’re the only one.” “Oh, Jesus!” The words broke out of him as if they caused him pain. He dropped the vibrator. She heard it hit the floor with a thunk as he wrenched himself off her and sat on the edge of the bed, his broad back to her, his head buried in his hands. For a moment she listened to him breathe, frozen to the spot. He was disgusted with her. He didn’t want to touch her any more. And what had happened to him? Why was he— Why did he look as if he’d had sex? She scrambled onto her knees, her whole body feeling cold, and touched his shoulder.
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None of her self-help books, none of her positive affirmations, had prepared her for what was going to happen in the next minute or so. “Tell me,” she said. He flinched away from her, and stood up. He looked down at himself, noticing for seemingly the first time his state of disarray, and he quickly fastened his fly. “What did you do?” Surprisingly, her voice was steady. He didn’t meet her eyes. “They kept on pumping in the chemicals,” he said. “Every few minutes. We’d stop, we’d be under control, and they’d just spray more in.” “You had sex with her.” It didn’t sound as if she were the one who was speaking. He ran both his hands through his hair. “I tried not to, dammit. I didn’t want to. And she didn’t either. All I could think of was you—” She’d felt cold, but now she felt hot anger flooding her body. She’d done everything she could, she’d humiliated herself in front of Leandros who was a total stranger to her, she’d had sex with a piece of plastic for God’s sake, and he’d just given in? Just like that? She jumped off the bed. “You were thinking of me? You were thinking of me? While you were screwing someone else? Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He let out a short, sharp breath. “We stopped, before—” “But you had your dick in her?” “I couldn’t stop myself!” he shouted. “You heard the alien—they make us do it! Yesterday you were a virgin, and now you’re fucking dildoes in fucking public! It wasn’t my damn fault!” She launched herself at him, battering at his chest with her fists. She knew she couldn’t hurt him; he was so big, and she was far too small, far too weak. But she wanted to make him stop, wanted to make him make this whole thing stop, right now. He caught her fists in his hands. “Cassie, believe me, I am so sorry about this.” “No.” She was breathing hard. “I don’t believe you. Let me go.” Beau dropped her hands and she whirled away from him and ran for the door. She had it halfway open before she remembered she didn’t have any underwear on.
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“Give me my underwear!” she yelled. She knew the aliens were watching. They were watching everything. They’d watched Beau fucking Eve. The least they could give her was some underwear. The pair of leather panties appeared under her hand, hanging off the doorknob. She pulled them on over her boots, not caring how clumsy she looked while she was doing it. “Cassie.” She didn’t look back. She ran out, slamming the door after her.
“This is very interesting,” said Andyr. “Almost as interesting as the sex. Do you think they will actually harm each other?” “I hope not,” Nisom said. “Getting an Earthling doctor all the way out here will be very expensive.” Lubda’s eyes closed. This was a lesson in Earthling emotions, all right. It wasn’t the lesson that Lubda had wanted to have.
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Chapter Nine
Leandros paced across the shag carpeting, tension building in him with each step. What was taking them so long? He ran a hand through his tangled locks. Like he really had to wonder about that. In fact, that was exactly what he was trying not to think about. He glanced at the door. He’d heard Cassie’s shower turn off moments before. Maybe he’d go see her. He didn’t want to be alone, thinking. Man, he hated thinking. At the door, he stopped. Cassie probably wouldn’t be thrilled to see him. After all, she’d been returned from the switch in a leather dominatrix outfit sans underwear. And the aliens weren’t known for returning them to normal clothing. He glanced down at his tight-fitting, black leather pants. Well, okay, he did have some pants like this in his closet at home, but he didn’t think Cassie was used to making small talk with her privates hanging out. He strode back across the room and sank down heavily onto the bed. The bed where he’d spent hours holding Eve. He glanced over his shoulder at the red satin pillows against the headboard. The bed had been made; the pillows fluffed. All signs of their moments there with their heads close together and their arms and legs intertwined, gone. Erased. As if it had never happened. Was Beau doing the same thing to her body? Canceling out all the memories of Leandros? Making her forget the feeling of his fingers stroking over her skin, his mouth tasting her flesh, his cock filling her perfectly? Leandros shot up from the bed and crossed the room as if getting away from that damned bed would somehow distance him from his thoughts. It didn’t. Images of Beau fucking Eve flashed in his mind in glaringly vivid detail. www.samhainpublishing.com
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“This is fucking hell,” he muttered. Why did he even care? What was so special about this woman? It wasn’t as though he hadn’t had sexier women, more gorgeous women. He was a lounge singer, for Christ’s sake! Women had always come easily to him. And he wasn’t just a lounge singer anywhere; he was a Vegas lounge singer. Fidelity didn’t exactly come with the position. So why was the idea of Eve with Barry—and now Beau—practically killing him? He turned on his heel and strode back across the floor. It was the extremeness of this situation. Aliens, sex tubes, chemicals and screwing virtual strangers. Those things were bound to scramble his thought processes. He was so out of his element that it was bound to make him want to attach to someone. Hadn’t the weirdness done the same thing to Cassie? He didn’t need to know Cassie and Beau well to see they were an unlikely couple out in the real world. Hell, the shy, buttoned-down woman and the laid-back southerner never would have met if not for these aliens and their wacked plan. Still, Cassie believed herself in love with Beau. Her feelings for the man had been clear in her eyes. This waiting had to be killing her too. He glanced back at the closed door, debating about going to see her. But her lack of underwear stopped him again. He was onto something with this train of thought. He was desperate to bond with someone. It was just human nature. A way to feel safe in a strange place. That’s why he felt like he was…falling in love with Eve. As fucked up as that sounded. “But that’s not why,” he said aloud, stopping his pacing, clenching his fists on his thighs. Unlike Cassie and Beau, he knew if he’d met Eve on the sidewalk outside his apartment, he would have noticed her. He’d have wanted her. His attraction had been that instant. The glowing blue tube had just fast-forwarded them through the normal things like flirting and dating. Whatever the cause, he’d never felt like this about any woman, and frankly, it was scaring the shit out of him. He’d never been the jealous type. He’d been of the mindset that if one woman didn’t work out, there was always another waiting when his set was
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over. But he didn’t want another woman. He wanted Eve. Only Eve. The way she abandoned herself to him. The challenge and the invitation in her dark eyes. He ran his hands through his hair again. Talk about your bad timing. Now he decided he wanted to become monogamous, when he was a sex slave in an alien pornship. This was so like him. He always did everything ass-backwards. Suddenly Eve materialized in the room. She faced the bed, her hands braced on the mattress. Her head was down, her narrow back rising and falling in short, harsh breaths. His eyes drifted down to the back of the strange, ruffled bloomer-type things she wore. Her sweetly rounded ass and glimpses of her damp, dusky pussy peeked out at him from the split in the crotch with each movement of her panted breaths. Leandros’s own breath felt as if it was being ripped from his chest at the sight. He knew what her stance, what her breathlessness meant. Beau had fucked her from behind. He ground his teeth, fighting not to lash out. Instead he managed to say, his voice cool and indifferent, “You appear to have enjoyed yourself.” Startled, Eve gasped and shot around to face him. Her cheeks were flushed, not just from embarrassment from being caught in her awkward position. He recognized that flushed, dazed expression. She’d just orgasmed. For Beau. Rage tightened his chest. Eve’s eyes focused, skimming down his body. Her gaze hardened as she took in his bare chest and skin-tight pants. Not nearly as revealing as her split-crotch bloomers and snug corset, but the sight of him obviously bothered her. Good, God damn it. “Yes,” she finally said, her voice still a little breathless. “I did enjoy it.” His anger flared, but instead, he smiled slowly. “And Beau? Did he enjoy that little costume of yours? Or was he too busy hammering into you from behind to notice what you looked like?”
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Eve flinched, and for just a moment, he regretted his words. Then she lifted her chin, giving him an arrogant look of her own. “You’re right; he was a little too busy to make small talk about my outfit. We didn’t talk much at all, in fact.” Leandros ground his teeth together until his jaw ached. But he wasn’t going to let this woman see how much her words affected him. “But enough about me,” she said sweetly. “How did you enjoy virginal Cassie? Caveman that you are, I’m sure you loved being only the second man she’s ever screwed.” He paused at that. Shit. Cassie had been a virgin before Beau. No wonder she thought she was in love with Beau. And thank God he hadn’t jumped her. She couldn’t have handled that. And not because he was a caveman, but because… He frowned at Eve. Caveman? He wanted to tell her if he was really a caveman, he wouldn’t be keeping his cool as well as he was. He’d throw her over his shoulder, drag her off, and make her forget every other man but him. In all his primitive glory. But she continued before he could advise her of this fact. “You must wish that when the aliens paired us off, you’d gotten her. I’m sure doing a virgin really turns you on.” He raised an eyebrow at that. He hadn’t even done a virgin when he was one. He didn’t have any issue with women having several lovers. In fact, he’d never much thought about his past lovers’ other lovers. What they did before him was their business. Which made the fact that he was going nuts imagining Eve with anyone else all the more upsetting. It really blew. “Did Cassandra please you?” she asked. He frowned again. “Did Beau please you?” “I asked first.”
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“Cassie did exactly what I wanted her to.” Eve looked away from him. “Did you like it?” He had to acknowledge he hadn’t disliked watching Cassie. But he’d have loved to see Eve do the same thing. He wouldn’t admit that, though. Eve glanced at him again. Her eyes were wide and darkened with an emotion that looked a lot like jealousy. Jealousy and pain. For just a split second he considered telling her the truth. That he hadn’t even touched Cassie. But then she lifted her chin again, and gave him her regal look. A look that didn’t apologize for her actions. His eyes roamed down her body again. Yeah, he knew exactly what those actions were. Yet, some masochistic part of him needed to hear her say them. To tell him just what Beau had done to her and what she’d done to him in return. He leaned against the wall with a casual stance that was far from the way he really felt. “Why don’t you tell me about sex with Beau? Did he make you come once? Twice? Did he fuck you doggy-style the whole time or did you change positions? Did it get confusing for you?” He pretended to be Eve. “‘Oh Barry! No wait, Leandros. No, Beau. That’s right. Fuck me, Beau!’” Eve glared at Leandros. My God, he could be cruel. His words hit her hard, like a punch to the stomach. In part because they were so brutal, and in part because they were true. She had called out one man’s name while another had been buried deep inside her. And the one man, the one who truly did know and care for her, Barry—she hadn’t thought of him at all. Oh God, she was a whore. She met Leandros’s eyes and almost buckled under the disdain she saw in their dark depths. No! He had no right to treat her with such scorn. After all, he’d been with Cassie. He’d been put into a similar situation, and she didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d done just what she and Beau had done. In fact, she doubted he’d put up any fight at all.
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“Well, at least Beau and I tried not to touch each other. Unlike you, I’m sure. You were probably all over Cassie like women’s underwear on Tom Jones’s stage.” Leandros frowned. “What?” She started to tell him she knew exactly what he’d done with Cassie, when she heard a quiet knock on the door. They both paused as if the sound was something completely foreign to either of them. Another rap sounded, this one a little louder than the last. Leandros reacted, striding to the door, his legs looking impossibly long in his leather pants. She forced herself to look away. Then she heard Cassie’s voice, quiet and unsteady. “Leandros.” “What’s wrong?” he asked the other woman, his tone gentle. Not cold and bitter like he used with her. Eve couldn’t help herself. She had to look at them. Then she blinked, stunned by the sight in front of her. Cassie stood in the doorway clad in a black leather bustier that barely covered the pale globes of her breasts. Garters, fishnet stockings, and a pair of stiletto-heeled boots made her legs look longer and shapely. A small pair of panties scarcely covered her sex. Leandros stood close to her. The tilt of his head and the curve of his spine as he leaned in to speak to her made him look large and protective. As though he would use his muscular body to shield Cassie from all the world’s hurts. “Can I…” Cassie looked past him to Eve, taking in her costume. Briefly their eyes met, and Eve could see the terrible anguish in her green eyes. But now Eve wasn’t sure if her pain was related to Eve being with Beau or Leandros. Cassie turned back to Leandros. “Can I talk to you?” she asked softly. “Please.” Damn her, Eve thought. She still sounded like the unsure virgin, even in that sexy get-up. Even after screwing two men in so many days. Screwing her man. Leandros nodded, and without looking back at Eve, left the room. The door closed soundly behind them.
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Eve collapsed on the bed, pain stealing all her strength. God, they looked like a couple. A decadent, sexy, leather-clad couple, perfectly suited for each other. A strangled sob slipped past the painful knot in her chest. She covered her face. She couldn’t handle this. She ran to the bathroom, tore off her bloomers, and splashed water on herself again and again, frantically lathering soap between her hands and scrubbing herself as if she could wash away everything she’d done, all the guilt that had been haunting her since she’d been forced aboard this damn spaceship. It didn’t work. No more than she could wash away her feelings about Leandros. She looked in the mirror and saw her face pale, her eyes wide and desperate-looking. She pulled her bloomers back on, and before she could think better of it, she headed back through the bedroom, intent on confronting Leandros and Cassie. She had no idea what she was going to say, but she had to say something. She couldn’t just be here, alone, feeling like shit. Anything was better than being alone. She opened the door, only to pause again. They sat on the red couch, their profiles to her. Leandros held Cassie against his chest. She buried her face into the crook of his neck and sobbed as if her heart were breaking. He stroked her hair and her back. She clung to him, not in passion but in absolute misery. “Shh,” Leandros said, hugging her tighter to him. “Cassie, it will be all right.” She pulled away from him. “It’s not all right,” she said, swiping at her tears. “Beau and Eve—they had sex.” Leandros nodded, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “I know.” “I had sex with that—that plastic thing, and you…” Cassie glanced down at what Eve assumed was his crotch. He smiled wryly. “Masturbated?” Cassie nodded. “Which is healthy,” she added as if she needed to reassure him of that fact. “But we didn’t give in, and they just—did.” Eve gaped at them, trying to absorb what they were saying.
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They hadn’t had sex? “I embarrassed myself by—fucking a molded piece of purple plastic in front of you so that I could be true to him, and he—fucked her. He did.” She started to cry again. Again Leandros pulled her against him. His large hands looked infinitely gentle caressing her hair. “We didn’t even touch each other,” Cassie whispered, again burying her face against his neck. Leandros pressed his cheek to the top of her head, and closed his eyes. His expression was so unguarded, so filled with sympathy and shared pain that Eve almost cried out. She watched the couple as they simply held each other. Then she noticed a movement in the doorway on the other side of the room. Beau stood there, watching Leandros and Cassie, too. Guilt and misery darkened his eyes. The same emotions that she knew clouded her own features. Beau’s gaze met hers, and she whispered “I’m sorry,” hoping the remorse in her eyes made up for the voiceless apology. He nodded, closing his eyes briefly as if to say he too was so sorry. But when his eyes opened again, she could see their silently exchanged regret hadn’t taken away any of the pain. The only apology that would help them belonged to the two people on the sofa. Eve looked back to them. Leandros still hugged Cassie. Her sobs had lessened to the occasional hiccup. Yet still they held each other. Eve glanced back to Beau. She could see that he wanted nothing more than to go to Cassie, to hold her and comfort her like Leandros was. But he didn’t. Just like Eve didn’t go to Leandros. They didn’t want Eve and Beau’s comfort. She and Beau had joined in the most intimate way possible and yet Leandros and Cassie’s hug, given chastely and consolingly, was far more intimate. Interrupting felt like an invasion. What had she and Beau done?
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Chapter Ten
Beau’s first thought was to go to Leandros, to tell him to get his hands the hell off his woman. To tell him that he could take care of her. Then he looked over at Eve, who stood there as guilt-stricken as he was, and he knew he couldn’t do that. Cassie didn’t want him. Not any more. “I’m such a fool.” Cassie’s words were little more than a whisper. Leandros pulled away to look at her, his hands holding her head. With his thumb, he brushed her damp cheek. “You’re not a fool,” he assured her. “I am,” she said louder this time. “I believed Beau. I really thought he wanted me outside of the chemicals. I’m so stupid.” Beau started forward to go to Cassie, but Leandros’s next words stopped him. “Beau’s the fool. He hurt you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Cassie blinked up at him. “I know. But…” Leandros nodded, again stroking her cheek with his long fingers. The sight of them on Cassie’s pale skin nearly drove Beau insane. “Cassie, you’re lovely. And sweet.” She rolled her eyes. “Great. Sweet always drives the men to distraction.” Leandros smiled. “Sweet is a good thing.” Her laugh was bitter. “Yeah. That’s why Beau let himself have sex with someone else. And you didn’t even want to touch me either.” Leandros raised his eyebrows and gazed pointedly at his arm around her shoulders. “Okay, I know you’re touching me now, but you—you know.” “I wouldn’t take that personally. Before I met Eve I would’ve been all over you like a skin rash.” www.samhainpublishing.com
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“You shouldn’t compare yourself to things like that,” Cassie said seriously. “It isn’t good for your self-esteem.” Leandros threw back his head and laughed. Beau saw Cassie start to smile through her tears. He’d caused those tears. And Leandros had caused the smile. That was all so damn wrong that he strode forward into the room. Both Cassie and Leandros immediately turned to look at him, startled by the interruption. With a bolt of anguish he saw her green eyes fill with pain again. Leandros jumped to his feet, his hands fisted. “Dude, your ass is grass.” Beau held his hands, open-palmed, out on either side of him. “Go ahead. You’ll save me the trouble of smashing my own head against a wall repeatedly.” Leandros grabbed Beau’s shoulder and pushed him back against the wall, banging his body hard against the plaster. Beau offered no resistance. “Beau!” he heard Cassie cry, and the alarm in her voice perversely made him feel a little better. At least she didn’t want him to get the shit beat out of him. Though given the girliness of the punches she’d landed on him earlier, she probably had an objection to violence in general, so he shouldn’t get his hopes up. “You screwed my woman.” Leandros’s face was furious, his words harsh, his hand twisted in the material of Beau’s jacket. He was taller than Beau, but Beau could take him if he wanted to fight back. Since he didn’t want to, he imagined Leandros wasn’t going to have much trouble reducing him to a bloody pulp. He was sort of looking forward to it. Bruises, he could heal from. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to.” “You mean you kind of slipped and your dick just slid in there by mistake?” Beau shook his head and sighed. “I’m ashamed of it and so is Eve and I really don’t want to hash it over any more, so why don’t you just beat me up and we’ll both feel better.” Leandros hesitated, midway through pulling back his right arm for a punch. His dark, angry eyes searched Beau’s for a minute, and then he dropped Beau.
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“It sort of takes the satisfaction out of it if you want to get hit,” he said, rubbing his right hand with his left as if not punching Beau had made him sore. “Well, that sucks,” said Beau. “Because it’s a hell of a lot harder to kick my own ass.” He glanced at Cassie, who had jumped up from the couch and was watching them with wide eyes. “That, I would like to see.” Leandros ran his hand through his hair. “Cassie really cares about you. Even if Eve tried to seduce you—” Beau saw the other man flinch at his own words, and he knew that Leandros was feeling the same bone-deep jealousy he’d felt himself. “She didn’t,” he said. “The aliens were hitting us hard with the chemicals, man. They wouldn’t stop. We did everything we could do not to touch each other but it was intense, it was like dying of thirst and trying not to drink your best friend’s last Bud. Morals and feelings just went out the window. Until she called out your name.” He heard a sharp intake of breath across the room from Eve, but Leandros didn’t seem to register it. He was staring, open-mouthed, at Beau. “She called out…my name?” “Yeah. It was a major reality check.” “My name. Leandros. Not somebody else’s? You’re sure?” “Yup. I’m sure. It doesn’t really sound like anything else.” Leandros stepped back from him, his hand on his forehead. “Fuck,” he said. Figuring that Leandros was in a world of his own and that he wasn’t going to be beating up anybody in the near future, Beau stepped around him and went to Cassie. She was chewing on her fingernail, worry stamped on her beautiful face. “Would you do me a favor?” he asked her. She frowned, clearly surprised by his words. “What?” “Do you think you could give me a bloody nose or something, maybe break a couple ribs? Because I really deserve it and this guy quit.” He jerked his thumb back at Leandros. Cassie blinked. “I don’t want to break your ribs.”
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“Well then do you think you could yell at me for awhile? Really make my life hell? I feel awful for what I did. I never want to hurt you that badly again.” He saw something in her face soften. “I’ll talk with you.” “That’ll have to do.” He took her hand and, to his relief, she let him. “Let’s get out of here.”
“That, too, was interesting,” Nisom said. “Though I would have preferred it if they had initiated a four-way sexual encounter.” “For a moment I thought that the two males were going to engage in intercourse,” Andyr commented. “It is unfortunate that they did not. It seems that the male sexual hormone can stimulate violent behavior.” “Their physical contact wasn’t about sex,” Lubda snapped. “It was about the fact that they were disturbed by our forcing them to change partners. The males are being territorial over the females.” “It is quite common in less developed species,” agreed Andyr. “Although it is exceedingly interesting to observe, I am grateful that Odilians have none of this aggression that sexual reproduction requires.” “You mean you would prefer not to experience their unpleasant emotions,” Lubda said. “Does this not prompt some pity in you for the Earthlings?” Andyr regarded Lubda coldly. “They are not of our species. Pity is an emotion reserved for those with whom one can find commonality.” “Or perhaps for those whose anguish we have caused.” “Lubda.” Lubda jumped at hearing Nisom’s voice so close. The big Odilian was scrutinizing Lubda carefully, eyes searching up and down on their stalks. “You have certainly been behaving unusually. Is there anything you would like to tell us?” Lubda turned and pretended to be searching through the computer’s hologram files.
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Andyr surveyed the video screens. “The Earthlings have paired off again. This would be an opportune time to observe how their behavior is different when they are in their original pairings, Lubda. Out of scientific interest.” “Yes,” Lubda said. It was unusual for an Odilian to be secretive, but Lubda kept all thoughts concealed. Earlier, Lubda had surreptitiously reprogrammed the computer to block the pheromone flow to the Earthlings’ living quarters, as promised. “Excellent,” said Nisom, abandoning the scrutiny of Lubda in favor of fresh entertainment. “Calibrate the dosage and administer the chemicals, Andyr. I am looking forward to a satisfying performance.” Lubda rubbed the tips of two appendages together. With no chemicals, there was no guarantee the Earthlings would have intercourse. And if they did not, the other Odilians were going to be looking for answers. Answers that would point straight to Lubda’s sabotage. Lubda averted all four eyes from the screens and began a complicated reclassification of the hologram scenarios. The Odilians simply didn’t know enough about human behavior yet to be certain whether the Earthlings would have sex with each other once they’d reunited with their partners. All Lubda knew was that this experiment had become much more cruel than anticipated, and that it was up to Lubda to do something about it. To make sure the Earthlings were returned to their home planet. Unless the other Odilians discovered first what Lubda had done.
Cassie dropped Beau’s hand as soon as they were back in their bedroom. “So what do you want to talk about?” she asked. She was glad she’d stopped crying. It was bad enough that she’d thrown away all of her dignity and civilized behavior already, what with the dildo thing and hitting Beau and crying with Leandros. She had control of herself now, and she could deal with the situation in an appropriate manner.
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After all, lots of her self-help books gave advice about this situation. What to do if your mate cheated on you. Though none of them had mentioned alien sex chemicals or men practically having fist fights in front of you. “I’m listening,” she added. This was usually recommended in most situations, and she had trained herself in effective listening strategies. Beau looked at her strangely. “You’re thinking about those books you read, aren’t you?” Again, he startled her. “So?” Beau shrugged. “It’s just that you seem to turn to them when you’re feeling unsure. Like you’re looking for answers.” Cassie stiffened. “Well, that is why these books are bestsellers. They help people in difficult situations.” Beau nodded. She could see he wasn’t convinced. “Well,” she bristled, “what do you do when you have to cope with something difficult, if you don’t get advice from other people?” “I usually make up my mind for myself.” “And what if you make the wrong decision? Like—” She couldn’t quite say it. “Like what happened with Eve?” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his long jacket. “I feel like shit, and I try to get my face smashed in, and usually I have a beer or two, but there doesn’t seem to be any on this spaceship. And I grovel to the person I hurt.” “Is this groveling?” She was doubtful about whether it was. He seemed to be criticizing her choice of reading material, and how she dealt with problems. And he needed to grovel, dammit. “I haven’t got warmed up yet. I will.” He tilted his head and looked at her. “The thing is, I want to make sure I’m groveling to you. Not to some woman from Venus who thinks I’m from Mars.”
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“Actually, the title of that book seems pretty accurate right now.” Cassie glared at him. “Listen, I can’t feel any guiltier,” he told her. “I tried my best not to touch Eve and I wasn’t strong enough. I feel pretty friggin’ wretched. I’m sorry because I didn’t want to do it, I messed with my head and with Eve’s head and pissed off Leandros royally, but what I’m most sorry about is that I hurt you.” He wished she’d sit down on the bed, look relaxed and not so uptight. How she managed to look properly prim in a leather corset and fishnets, he had no idea. But it was playing hell with his nerves. “And it kills me that you ran to Leandros. If you’re so damn good at listening and understanding and knowing what people’s feelings are, how come you wouldn’t stay and give me a chance? Because all I want to do is please you, Cass.” This seemed to unbend her a little. Her cute little forehead furrowed, and she sat down at last. “I’m not good at knowing what people’s feelings are,” she said. “I have no clue most of the time. And I just don’t meet that many people that I relate to. That’s why I read my books.” “You don’t meet that many people?” She shook her head. “I mean, I know my family, of course. And I meet other people at parties and functions and seminars and things. But people don’t really talk about their problems at tea parties and seminars. You know.” He didn’t know shit about tea parties and seminars, and he was beginning to see he didn’t know much about the rest of Cassie’s life, either. “But I want to be a counselor, or a social worker. I mean, I would like to be one. Something that helps people. But Mummy and Daddy say that kind of career is beneath me.” Beau sat beside her. “Well, we’ve got that in common anyway. Wasn’t much point in my thinking about a career like that either.”
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Of course, that was because he didn’t have the money to go to college, and there was a perfectly good job at his uncle Merle’s garage. “They want me to be a lawyer—corporate law,” she said, and that pretty much wiped out the feeling of commonality he’d had with her. “I’m studying at the university near my house, while I live at home. I don’t have much time to do anything besides study. And my parents keep me busy with all their entertaining. With people they approve of.” “Is that why you were a virgin?” he asked her. “Because you don’t meet that many people?” The idea bothered him for some reason, like she’d chosen him because she hadn’t seen anything better. But then he remembered that she hadn’t chosen him in the first place. And as far as being a person her parents would approve of: no chance there. “Sort of. I haven’t done much with guys.” She shrugged, and the motion made her breasts jiggle provocatively in her bustier. “I haven’t done much, period. I think I’ve lived more in the past two days on this spaceship than I have in the past twenty-one years.” “Me too.” She raised her chin suddenly. “When I get off this spaceship I’m going to go do stuff. I’m going to get out there and meet people and experience life.” “Damn right,” Beau said, though his stomach clenched again with a wave of jealousy. Cassie was going to get out there and meet men. And if he thought he’d been desperate when he’d believed she was balling Leandros because of alien chemicals, how was he going to feel when he knew she was balling other guys she’d chosen, who were in her own social class, who could offer her something? Fucked if he was going to remind her of that, though. He might be dumb, but he wasn’t dumb enough to drive another wedge between them. He reached over and caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Until then,” he said, “do you think you’d like to experience some life with me?” “Yes.” Cassie bit her lip. “That’s all I could think about when I was with Leandros. That I wanted to do those things with you. Use those toys. Watch you come.”
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He thought of the last time he’d come, into the material of Eve’s bloomers, and even more against his will, he pictured Leandros with his hand around what was probably the biggest dick in the known universe, given Beau’s luck, shooting a powerful stream of jizz into the air while Cassie watched. Jesus, he needed to do something to get those images out of his head, and fast. Something that would give him a memory he could return to when he was back in his one-bedroom apartment in Alabama with only his dog for company, and Cassie was out living her life with those jeans-creaming country club boys. “Okay.” He leaned over and kissed her, relieved to feel that her lips still felt the same, soft and innocent and enticing, and that he still felt the same way kissing her, despite what had happened to both of them. With a soft moan, she parted her lips and let him in. For right now, she was his. That was going to have to be enough. “Lie back, sugar,” he murmured against her lips, pressing her gently back onto the bed. “Let me show you how good it can be when I grovel.” She sank back onto the satin bedspread, a little adventurous smile on her face. “What are we going to do?” “You’ll like it,” he vowed, rolling onto the bed and settling himself beside her. He let his hand travel slowly over her body, feeling how her waist was pulled in tight by the leather corset, how lush her hips and breasts were. His fingers walked over the creamy swells of the tops of her tits, and he pressed kisses to her cheek, her neck, her shoulder. “I like it so far,” she breathed. He felt the leather laces holding her corset together at the front. “This is quite an outfit,” he said, and slid his hand down over her stomach to rest on the top of her panties. He ran his fingers over the leather waistband, just crept inside. He was rewarded by her quick intake of breath. It was too hot in these oldfangled clothes, especially with this sexy woman next to him. Beau knelt up and shrugged off the long heavy jacket and started unfastening the linen shirt. Then he saw Cassie’s smile grow wider with the sight of his naked chest. His
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finger paused at the sight. She was so sweet, so damned pretty. She sat up and reached for him, but he firmly guided her back to her prone position. “I’m groveling, remember? You’re supposed to lie back and enjoy it.” “I enjoy touching you,” she complained. “And you will, darlin’, believe me. Just be patient a little while.” He planted a light, promising kiss on her lips, and then slid slowly down her body, pressing kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, in the glorious soft space between her breasts, and then over the laces of her corset. Where he could see skin between the laces, he slipped his tongue through the spaces and tasted her. There was a gap between the corset and her panties, the straps of her garters framing her stomach and the curve of her hips. Beau ran his thumbs over her there, and then explored her with his mouth and tongue. She felt as soft as heaven, as sweet as cotton candy. Even with her panties still on, he could smell her musky arousal, and it made his balls tighten and his cock jerk with lust in his pants. But he skipped over her crotch for a moment to run his hands over her legs, encased in fishnet stockings and tight leather boots. Boy oh boy. She looked like a dominatrix, but the most adorable dominatrix he’d ever seen. He had the feeling that if she ordered him to kneel before her and lick her boots, he’d do it without even asking whether she’d been walking through a cow field. Beau pulled her panties down over her legs and tossed them aside. He gently nudged her legs apart and knelt there, looking at her pussy. The glossy black hair, the plump pink lips pouting at him. This part of her that no man had touched besides him, the part he wanted to touch and lick and kiss and adore until she was so drenched with pleasure she couldn’t stand any more. He leaned forward. Cassie gasped as she felt Beau’s soft lips and the bristle of his facial hair on her inner thigh. And then his warm breath on her crotch. And then his hot tongue licking, slowly, up the length of her slit. It flicked once against her clitoris, and the soft hair on his chin
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caressed her briefly before he started again at her vagina, exploring her with his tongue, licking slowly up to her clitoris again. Cunnilingus. That was the name she’d read about for this act, and it had seemed such a weird, technical name, and for that reason she had thought it would feel weird, technical. But it didn’t. It felt wonderful. His mouth was wet and molten, more exquisite than even the most delicate touch of a fingertip. He was caressing her with his lips, now, taking nibbles at her sensitive flesh, nipping at her labia, then parting her and sucking her inner lips into his mouth, then letting his tongue slide inside her and fuck her gently, exploring her thoroughly with his mouth and teeth and tongue. It was thrilling and arousing, but it was more than that. Beau was touching her intimately, with ultimate care, and lying on the satin bedspread looking down at his head between her legs, feeling his mouth on her pussy and his hair brushing her thighs, she felt totally accepted. Like he was immersing himself in her, cherishing her. Beau’s explorations became more focused, more centered on her clit. He twirled his tongue around the sensitive bud and she moaned. “This feels so amazing,” she said. Beau made a male sound of pleasure at her words, the vibration of his voice making her pussy quiver. He fell into a leisurely rhythm, flicking his tongue delicately over her clit, then licking around it, down to taste the rest of her, back up to lick her nubbin more firmly. He held her ass in both his hands, keeping her still, presenting her to his mouth. Cassie closed her eyes and let the sensation possess her entire body. Forgetting she had arms, legs, toes, fingers, only feeling the hot delight at her core. Time spun out. She measured its passing by the movements of Beau’s talented mouth. How he took her clit between his lips and suckled her. Let the soft bristles of his goatee caress her flesh. Nuzzled her, lovingly, gently. Blew softly on her sex, sending a hot shiver up her spine. And then picked up his pace, as if he were hungrier for her as her hunger grew.
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As his tongue moved faster, she arched up on the bed, feeling her orgasm building up in her, clamoring for its release. “Beau,” she whispered, digging the other hand into the bedclothes and sinking the fingers of one hand into his mass of dark hair, holding him tight to her. “Patience, darlin’,” he murmured against her, the “p” sound a small kiss, his words a caress. To emphasize what he said, he lifted his mouth from her clit and instead licked slowly up the inside of her thigh, nipping at the delicate skin in the crease where her leg met her sex. It was wonderful. But her body wanted satisfaction, not teasing. She lifted her hips toward his mouth, begging him with her movements to make her come. Beau chuckled. He moved his head, skipping over her pussy, touching her only with his breath, to sample the skin of her other thigh. Cassie felt as if her sex were wide open, wet as the ocean and desperate for his touch. A lock of his silky hair fell over the flesh between her legs, a soft stroke, and she hissed. Slowly, leisurely, he made his way up her thigh and finally to the outer lips of her pussy. Just a touch there. Then a small lick on the hood of skin covering her clitoris. Then he touched, just barely, the hot wet tip of his tongue to her clit, where she craved him. Cassie groaned and began to move her hips up to meet his mouth. She wanted him to touch her harder, to move on her, to lick her quickly to completion before she lost her mind. Beau tightened his grip on her ass. Held her absolutely still with his big, strong hands. And didn’t move his tongue at all. Kept up a steady, light, frictionless pressure. “Beau, please,” she cried out, thrashing her head back and forth on the pillow, trying to move her hips, trying to do anything that would bring her orgasm. But he didn’t move. He held her like something precious, tasted her like the most exquisite flavor, too delicate to explore. And she felt the heat of his tongue pouring into her body, through the nerve endings of her clit. Felt the softness of his tongue, the
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smallest movement caused by his heartbeat and breath, everything caused by her wonderful, alive, sexy, caring Beau. And then she was blind, deaf, feeling nothing but a series of racking explosions in her body. He brought her over the crest of her orgasm and back down the other side, moving his mouth now, slowly driving her upwards again to another peak just as intense as the first one. And then softened his strokes even more, feathered over her, kissed her. Gave her one last lingering lick, and then lifted his head from her, propped up on his elbow, and smiled. His lips were moist and pink. “How’s that for groveling, babe?” He grinned. “That’s—good. Very good.” He inclined his head, looking supremely satisfied with himself. “I aim to please, ma’am.” She had to catch her breath, wait for her heart to stop hammering before she could say anything else. And when she did speak, she surprised herself. “Come here,” she said. “Sure thing.” Beau came up to lie beside her. Cassie reached out, tangled her hands in his hair, and brought him to her for a long, passionate kiss. He tasted of her. The realization made her want him more. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him backwards, clambering on top of him so he was lying on his back and she was pinning him down, her knees on either side of his stomach, her bum pressing down on the erection she could feel through his pants. “Hey,” Beau said, his face delighted, “what you doing there, little lady?” “I want you,” she said. She slid her hands down his strong chest and parted his shirt, unfastening the last few buttons and pushing it off his shoulders. Then she let her palms explore his firm stomach, his lightly haired chest with its flat male nipples. She dipped her head down to tease one of them with her mouth, rewarded by his sharp intake of
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breath. She tried the other one and was pleased when this one, too, pebbled into hardness between her lips. She wriggled down his legs, enjoying the feeling of his thighs brushing against her sensitized pussy, until she was perched on his knees. Then she put her hand on the top button of his fly and paused, looking him up and down. “I like this outfit on you,” she said. “You look like an old-fashioned aristocrat, with your hair and your beard and those boots.” She giggled. “My sweet Lord Beau Bryson.” “Wouldn’t that be nice,” Beau said, twisting his lips wryly. She slipped off him, and sat cross-legged on the bed, her arms folded against her chest. “Stand up,” she said. Beau raised his eyebrows, but he rolled off the bed and stood beside it, his shirt hanging off his broad shoulders. “I’d like you to take off your shirt, please.” His eyebrows raised still further. “Is this the new go-out-and-experience-life Cassie?” “Yes.” “I like it.” He tugged off his shirt and Cassie looked at him, the defined muscles of his arms, his tattoo, the plane of his belly with its trail of dark hair. How his hair fell over his shoulders. God, she felt good. An hour ago she’d felt powerless, waiting for Beau, imagining him with someone else, uncomfortable in the clothes the aliens had given her, having to repeat affirmations to make herself feel all right. But here with Beau in front of her, waiting to please her, she didn’t need affirmations. She felt comfortable. Sexy. Aroused. Powerful. She saw how his erection strained the seams of his old-fashioned pants. How his lips were curled up in a smile. “It’s me you want, isn’t it?” she asked.
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Her mother had taught her that men didn’t like aggressive women. That it was a bad thing to be full of yourself. That a lady should be demure and modest and wait for the right man to come along and choose you. Her mother had been wrong. Cassie knew it because when Beau nodded, looking at her with that hunger in his eyes, she felt like she was doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing. “You,” he said. “Nobody else.” “Take off the rest of your clothes,” she said. “Please,” she added, although she knew that Beau would like her giving him orders in this way. Just like she would love it if the tables were turned and he was in control. Mere politeness was for tea parties. This was something deeper. “You sound like you’re somebody who’s used to getting what you want,” Beau said, putting his hand on the waistband of his trousers and giving her that lazy, seductive look. “I’m going to be,” she said. She watched as he unbuttoned his fly, revealing his cock. It was hard, thick, and pointed out as if it had a life of its own. She remembered what it felt like in her hand, and how it felt pounding into her. Her mouth watered, and her crotch throbbed. Beau leaned down to unfasten his boots. He pulled one off, then the other, bending double. His shaft still jutted out, swaying as he moved, his balls heavy-looking. Once his boots were gone, he pushed his pants down his hips. Her eyes trailed the length of his muscular legs as they were revealed, and lingered on his tight buttocks when he bent over to push his pants all the way down so he could step out of them. She’d never really ogled a man before, either. Though she had to admit she’d never met a man as ogle-worthy as Beau before. She hauled in a deep breath of appreciation as he stood before her naked. He was perfect. From the tips of his toes to his lean hips, his beautiful penis, his capable hands, his magnificent chest, his sexy hair. And of course his smile, his almost sleepy blue eyes, every part of him that made him her Beau.
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Because he was hers, she realized. She knew exactly how Leandros had felt when he’d slammed Beau up against a wall and accused him of screwing his woman. She would never do the same thing to Eve, because she knew it wasn’t Eve’s fault, and besides, Cassie wouldn’t know how to slam somebody into a wall if she tried. But she understood that fierce protectiveness, the possessiveness. The feeling that you would do absolutely anything not to lose the good thing you’d found. It wasn’t polite, it wasn’t civilized, and it wasn’t something you could find at tea parties, either. She held her hand out to her man. “Come here, Beau. Let’s make love.” Beau climbed back onto the bed and kissed her. She loved this, the rasp of his facial hair against her skin, his soft strong lips, how he tasted of sexy man and the faint musky tang of her juices. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close against his hard body. She could feel his heart beating against her breast, his rapid breathing and the length of his erection branding heat on her belly through the leather. Cassie remembered something, and when they parted for air she said, “The alien said that he—she—” “It,” Beau supplied, nipping at her bottom lip. “They,” decided Cassie, “were going to stop pumping the chemicals into our living quarters.” “Mmm,” Beau agreed, settling both of his big hands on her ass and kneading her flesh as he pulled her still closer. The base of his cock rubbed against the lips of her sex, hot and hard and heavy. “So that means,” she said breathlessly, “that we’re doing just as we want. Not being manipulated. Or ordered around.” Beau kissed a warm trail down the side of her neck, and then pulled back to look into her eyes.
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“It’s all real,” he said. Then the smile crept back across his face. “You’re the only one who’s been doing the ordering around.” He fell back on the bed, pulling her with him and on top of him. Cassie gasped with the suddenness of it, how the weight of her body pressed her breasts even tighter against his chest, how his cock jerked under her clitoris. But Beau just smiled, his face inches from hers. “Go ahead,” he said. “You’ve got me where you want me. Call the shots, darlin’. Because I know you love it.” “I do,” she agreed. “With you.” “You’ll start with me, babe. And then you’ll conquer the world.” He raised his head and kissed her as she was wondering why when he was saying such an amazing, supportive thing, his voice sounded a little sad. But then she was distracted by his warm lips and his body beneath her. As her tongue sampled the soft, slippery texture of his mouth, she rubbed her breasts against him. The leather teased her nipples maddeningly. She rotated her hips, grinding herself on him. The rough hair at the base of his cock felt like a hundred exquisite tickles; the hard ridge running up the bottom of his erection parted the swollen lips of her pussy and she felt her juices making him slick. She propped herself up with her hands on his shoulders and looked down at where they were joined. The length of his shaft protruded from between her legs, lying up his hard belly with the red-purple head near his navel. From this angle it almost looked as if his dick were hers, growing from her darker thatch of pubic hair. She slid up on him, from root to tip, and back down again, and gasped at the wonderful friction on her oversensitized clit. “I can’t wait to be inside you.” Beau’s voice was a rough mutter. “Well.” She looked him in the face, and gave him a slow, sexy smile she’d learned straight from him. “You might have to be patient.” “I can do that.” She slid up and down on him again, and she saw his eyes go unfocused for an instant. “I think,” he added, his voice a little breathless.
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Cassie reached down and took his cock in her hand. It pulsed under her touch. Slowly, as slowly as she could, she lifted herself up so she was positioned above him and she ran the head of his penis between the lips of her labia, circled her clit with its hot crown. As he’d done, she kept her movements gentle, and she mimicked the way he’d run his tongue all around her pussy. Ending with soft rubbing against her clit. She bit her lip at the pleasure. “Jesus, Cass,” Beau breathed. She looked into his face, and his eyes were traveling over her body, going back again and again to their crotches. He could see what she was doing, she realized. She could feel it, but he could see it, too. She pictured it, his hard cock, the purple curve of its head sliding against the pink flesh of her pussy. The thought made her shudder. “You are so damn sexy,” he said, and another jolt of desire jerked through her veins. She remembered how she’d pleasured herself with the vibrator, wishing the entire time that it had been Beau. As she’d done then, she reached down with her left hand and spread herself open so that his cock could rub against her even more intimately, and was rewarded both by the more intense feelings and by Beau’s growl of passion. She brought the head of his glans to her entrance and let it slip inside her, just a little bit, just enough so that she knew Beau could feel her hot tightness, just enough so that she could anticipate how great it would feel when Beau finally penetrated her as deep as he could go. She squeezed him as hard as she could, and heard him moan. And then she shifted and let him slide back out of her, and went back to rubbing it on her clit. She was going to come again; her body felt that now-familiar tingle. “You’re driving me crazy,” Beau rasped, and then her orgasm hit her even more quickly than she’d thought. She threw her head forward, took her left hand away from herself and propped it on his shoulder to hold herself upright during the spasms that rocked her. At the same time she shifted herself and Beau, pointing his shaft at the entrance to her body and thrusting down hard onto him with all of her weight.
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He plunged upwards into her, hard and fast and as deep as she’d imagined, and her orgasm flew to a whole new level. Somehow, she didn’t lose her mind. She held her hips down, still, and felt herself contracting around Beau’s erection as her body jerked over him. “Holy shit, Cass,” Beau murmured, and his hands came up to cup her breasts. His fingers on her nipples wrung the last of her orgasm out of her. When she could open her eyes, she had to blink several times before she could see properly. “Wow,” she said. “That was really something,” Beau agreed. “One thing, though.” “What?” “A man can only wait so long, sugar. If you don’t move, I’m going to roll you over and fuck your brains out under my own steam.” She was three orgasms down and she still wanted more. Still slowly, feeling every thick inch of him, she slid up the length of his cock and then back down so he was fully sheathed in her. “I think I might be turning into a nymphomaniac,” she told Beau. “Well, hot damn, I ain’t complaining.” He gasped as she repeated the whole, long movement again. And again. Every time just as slowly. At the end of one of her strokes she paused and rotated her hips, first one way and then the other, experimenting with how he felt inside her. Beau’s hands tightened on her breasts. “I love the way you feel inside me,” she said. His face and chest were sheened with a fine film of perspiration; she could tell it was an effort for him to hold himself back. And that he was holding himself back because she wanted him to. “You can’t possibly love it as much as I love being inside you,” he said, his voice tight with restraint.
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“I think I do.” She leaned forward so that only the tip of him was inside her, and rocked back and forth in little movements, fucking just the tip of his dick. Her pussy lips embraced him, her muscles pulled him in. A tease. “You can’t,” he gritted, “or else you wouldn’t be doing that.” “Doing what?” She knew her smile was mischievous. “Doing this?” And she thrust down on him as fast as she could, impaling herself on him so thoroughly that she could feel his dick nudge her cervix. The feeling sent a thrill through her body. She was going to come again. “Cassie!” Beau cried. She blinked down at him in mock innocence. “What?” “Jesus,” he muttered roughly. “I think you’re going to kill me.” “Am I good at this?” “Good at it? I think you’re a goddamn genius.” She giggled. “A goddamn evil genius. Even your laughing is torturing me. I know you’re in control here, but come on and fuck me, babe. I’m gonna start howling at the moon in a minute.” Come on and fuck me, babe. Exactly what she’d been wanting to do for so long. Cassie leaned both her palms against Beau’s chest, held her breath in concentration, and making sure she felt every sensation she could, began to move up and down on Beau. All that gorgeous hard length of his dick filling her, sliding out, only to fill her again. Beau’s groan was pulled from deep in his body. His hands went to her hips, not guiding her but following the pace she set. He pulled himself up so that his face was level with her breasts, and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. And then the nymphomaniac side of her really took over because she couldn’t control herself any more. With a harsh cry, she let her body do what it wanted. Taking Beau wildly, completely. Riding him on a growing wave of ecstasy as she heard his breathing become
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harsher and harsher, felt his hands tightening on her and his mouth sucking more desperately at her breast, his teeth grazing her nipple, his beard tickling her skin in delicious rasps. One of her hands reached behind her and her fingers found Beau’s balls, tight and jerking with each thrust that they made. He roared an inarticulate cry and she felt what she’d longed to feel—his hot seed gushing into her, his cock jerking in its violent release. The sensation sent her over the edge once again, into the orange and purple fireworks of the most spectacular orgasm yet. She fell forward onto Beau and for a long time she couldn’t understand anything except for their breathing, their heartbeats, their bodies cooling together, Beau’s arms tight around her.
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Chapter Eleven
Absently Leandros registered that Beau and Cassie had left the room, but he still stood there, his hand still pressed to his forehead. Was Beau telling the truth? Had Eve really called out his name? And if she did, what did that mean? He fell back against the wall, furrowing his fingers into his hair. He didn’t know what to believe. Eve certainly hadn’t tried to explain her actions. She’d just acted like she’d had sex with Beau and she was proud of it. But then, she’d probably expected him to think the worst of her, which he had. “It’s true, you know. Leandros doesn’t sound like any other name.” He turned to see Eve in the doorway of their room. He didn’t move as he watched her approach him. “Do you realize,” she said almost as if she were talking to herself, “I never once called Barry’s name when I was with you?” Yes, he knew that. But still, he had no idea what that meant. She stopped directly in front of him. “I never even thought about him when I was making love with you.” He didn’t say anything. He just studied her features. Her big, dark eyes fringed with thick lashes, her lips that curved up at the corners, pink and inviting, her soft hair, mussed. She was beautiful, and she was sexy as hell. But he didn’t tell her that. Instead he dropped the hand that was still tangled in his hair to his side and said, “But you did think about him before and after.” Her chin lifted, and he expected her to pull away. His words hadn’t been said to be judgmental, but she seemed to have perceived them that way.
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But she surprised him and continued, “Yes, I did. But only because that was when I was finally able to think about anything besides…” Her eyes roamed down his body. She stepped closer. “You.” He reacted immediately, his muscles tensing, his blood rushing through his veins straight to his groin. He thought about reaching for her, feeling her body against his, but he needed to understand what was really going on here. They both understood the sex. That was not an issue. It was talking that seemed to stump them. Avoiding her eyes and her body, he slipped past her. Distance. That’s what he needed to keep a clear head and think. He needed to know not only what had happened during the switch with Beau, but how Eve felt about, well, everything. And how he felt. Because that was almost as much of a puzzle to him. He strode across the room, keeping his back to her. What did he ask first? They had so many things they needed to discuss. “Beau said that you both tried not to have sex,” he finally said. “That’s true.” Leandros spun to find Eve standing very close to him. She obviously didn’t think she needed to keep her distance to remain focused. “We masturbated,” she said, “hoping that would entertain the aliens enough. But it obviously didn’t. They took a new tactic. They gave us less of the chemicals, but they kept pumping it in every few moments. We were going insane. But even though I was crazy to find release, it was you I thought of.” Again her eyes wandered down his body. “I wanted you.” He tried to steel himself against her hungry look. Again, he moved away from her, putting the sofa between them. “You didn’t want Beau at all?” he asked.
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She started toward him again, her steps unhurried. “I only wanted him in the context of he was there and I had those damned chemicals coursing through me. But in my mind, I was with you. When he was inside me, it was you. I never pictured anyone else.” Odd words to make him feel proud and possessive. But they did. She reached his side of the couch, just inches away from him again. He stepped backwards. Despite the measure of reassurance her words had given him, he wasn’t ready to touch her. He knew where that would lead, and quickly. She looked so damned sexy with her hard nipples poking the thin cotton of her corset. He didn’t allow his eyes to go to the bloomers with their revealing opening in the crotch. No sex. They still had too much to talk about. Not to mention he was still trying to deal with the emotions inside himself. Discovering you were in love for the first time was a damned scary proposition. A bit like taking on a medley of the King’s songs at a diehard Elvis convention. He’d done that. This was actually way scarier. “Why do you keep running away?” Eve asked as she again followed him around the room with the leisurely persistence of an ax-wielding killer in a teen slasher film. “We need to talk,” he said. “I agree. But first I need to touch you. I wanted you so much during the switch, and that need hasn’t gone. It won’t go until I make love with you.” He fought back a groan, taking another step away from her. His back hit the wall. Shit. Eve stopped in front of him. Her breasts with those beaded little nipples practically brushed his bare chest. He could feel the tickle of her bloomers even through his leather pants. He pulled in a deep, although unsteady, breath and waited for her to touch him. Instead she dropped to her knees. “What are you doing?” he asked, the words barely audible. The sight of her on her knees, her head level with his crotch, made it damned near impossible to pull in another breath.
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“I want to show you how I feel about you.” She splayed her hands on the front of his legs, running them slowly upward from his knees to his hips. “I don’t want you to have any doubt in your mind that you are the only man I want.” Her hands stroked back down his legs, and his cock strained against the fly of his pants. God, this woman was driving him wild. Again her hands stroked up the front of his thigh, and he fought back a hiss as her thumbs brushed, just barely, the bulge at the apex of his thighs. He had to stay focused. His cock jerked under the too-tight leather. No, he said mentally to the impatient organ. He needed answers. He couldn’t do this any more. He couldn’t wonder about her feelings. Even if it meant waiting. His dick twitched again as if to state its total disagreement with this idea. He ignored it, and managed to say, his voice uneven, “Eve, please. We need to talk.” She nodded, her hands, inch by inch, sliding back down his thighs. “Yes. We do need to talk. But I need to apologize too.” She smiled up at him, the curve of her lips pure seduction. Her hands moved back up his legs, this time shaping to the jut of his hipbones up to his waistband. “Tell you what,” she said, tracing a finger along the bare skin just above the waistband. “You ask me anything you want. And I promise to answer.” That sounded like a deal. “Okay.” He closed his eyes briefly as her fingertip dipped into his navel. Then her fingers moved to the button of his pants. He caught her hand, frowning down at her. “What are you doing? You said we’d talk.” “Mmm-hmm,” she agreed readily. “But that doesn’t mean my hands can’t be busy with other things.” “Eve—” “Let me touch you.” She nibbled her bottom lip. Damn, she was so tempting.
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“Maybe you can talk while you’re touching me,” he said, “but I know as soon as your hands are on my cock, my brain is going to turn to mush. Very, very pleased mush, but mush nonetheless.” Her fingers moved under his, returning to the button, popping it free. “Then maybe I won’t use my hands.” His hand still held hers as she caught the tab of his zipper. Slowly, she tugged it down, and despite his thoughts to stop her, his hand didn’t obey. Once the pants were unfastened, she moved their hands up to the waistband, working the pants down over his hips, lower and lower, until his cock sprang free, heavy and swollen. “Oh, poor man, those pants could not have been comfortable.” She touched a finger carefully to the head of his dick. The shaft jumped under the small caress. And Leandros bit back a groan. It was intensely erotic to have Eve studying his arousal so closely. “Do I get a question now?” he asked, the words hoarse with his desire. “Yes.” “Did you come for Beau?” She blinked up at him, obviously startled by his question. “Yes.” He could hear the regret in her voice. “But like I said, I imagined he was you. I imagined this.” Again she trailed a finger around the head of his cock. He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the slight touch, but he remained centered on his questions. The things he had to know, things that threatened to kill him as much as her exquisite touch. “Did he feel different?” She frowned at that, her gaze never leaving his erection. “I don’t know. I didn’t really think about that. I just thought about the way I felt with you. The way you felt buried deep inside me.” His dick reacted to her words with a small bob. A nod of approval. “And Barry? Does he feel different?”
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She tilted her head, again looking at his cock rather than him. “Yes. He does feel different. Or rather, I feel very, very different when I’m with him versus you.” Leandros wasn’t sure he wanted to hear those differences now that he’d asked. Barry was different from Beau. Eve hadn’t chosen Beau. She hadn’t been with Beau more than once. And she definitely didn’t love Beau. But before he could ask another question to move away from this one, she continued, “I’ve never been that adventurous.” She glanced up at him. “You know, in the bedroom. I love sex. I loved the idea of wild, bold sex. But with Barry, that just didn’t seem natural.” Leandros swallowed as her finger returned to him, this time stroking up the underside of his rock-hard length. “I didn’t—dare to do the things I imagined.” She touched him again, the pad of her index finger like warm velvet. His muscles tensed. His need leapt, strong and intense. All from the brush of a fingertip. “I never would do this. Just kneel in front of him and study his erection.” She smiled up at him. “You have a beautiful penis. Long and heavy and…” She leaned forward and touched her tongue to the tip. A fleeting rasp of heat and moisture. “Delicious.” He nearly came right then. Only sheer willpower held him in check. She smiled up at him innocently as though she had no idea what her small touches were doing to him. “Next question.” Tease. “Then why are you with Barry?” he whispered, need stealing his voice. “What attracted you?” “Hmm,” she considered, almost absently stroking the length of him with the one torturous finger. “That’s actually two questions, but since I did say you could ask and I would answer, I guess I can’t quibble.” Another finger joined the one, tracing the sensitive underside of his cock.
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“Eve,” he said, her name little more than a rough mutter on his lips. He groaned as she fondled his length again. “You said you wouldn’t use your hands.” God, she had to stop, or he wouldn’t get the answers he needed. At least not until he’d fucked her, and himself, senseless. She smiled up at him, her grin wicked. “I believe I said, that I might not use my hands. But if you are going to complain…” She angled her head and curled her tongue around the underside, licking the same responsive path her fingers had just traced. His hips jerked forward, and his head fell back against the wall. “Eve!” “Is that bad too?” she asked innocently. “You’re evil.” She laughed, the sound rich and naughty and delighted. “Well, maybe we better stick with my hands.” He pulled in a sharp breath as her fingers returned to him. Still too intensely good, but manageable. He might be able to control himself—for a little longer. “Now, back to your questions. I met Barry in college. In art class. I talked to him because he was so abysmal at art. Really, really bad.” Leandros could hear the smile in her voice, even over the thrum of his own blood in his ears. The smiley tone bothered him. There was affection there. His chest tightened. How could she be touching—licking him for Christ’s sake—and still have affection for another man? “So I asked him why he was taking the class.” She touched the head of his dick in fleeting, maddening circles. He shivered, his yearning building, gripping him despite his irritation with her tender tone. “Why did he take the class?” Leandros wished the hell he hadn’t taken it. He wished there was no Barry. No anyone—but him. “It was an elective, and he did like art. But he couldn’t do it himself.” She curled her fingers around him, her hold loose but so, so fucking thrilling.
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He closed his eyes, trying to think of what to ask next. She hadn’t answered the original question, and he thought he should prompt her for more. But the synapses that sent out the orders to his mouth misfired. Instead all he managed was another shudder and a low groan that rumbled deep in his throat. Fortunately she didn’t need prompting. “We started dating, and he was nice and kind.” Her words stole just a little of the bliss her fingers were creating. “We continued to date because there was no reason not to. Because he was good to me, and committed to me.” Her hand moved up to the base of his cock. Her fingers slipped downward to test the weight and texture of his balls. He hissed, his hips jerking. “That’s why we got engaged. I wanted permanence. I wanted a family. And there was no reason not to marry him.” Her hand stilled, and he opened his eyes to look down at her. She regarded him with solemn eyes, all the mischievous flirting gone. “Until you.” He stared at her. Was she telling him that she was planning to break things off with Barry? Or was she just saying that sex with Leandros had thrown a snag in her plans? “Now I know I was only settling. That I don’t want nice. I want amazing. I want passion. I want to feel everything that I always dreamed about, but didn’t believe existed. I want you.” Before he could react, she parted her lips and took him into her mouth. “Eve,” Leandros cried out, and she registered the sound of his head thumping against the wall, and the buck of his hips. But the sound and the movement seemed distant, overshadowed by the rigid, velvety heat filling her mouth. Her tongue slipped over his length, testing the different textures of him. The steely smoothness topped by his spongy head. The burning heat of the blood engorging him. She savored his wonderfully musky, slightly salty taste on her tongue. His earthy, aroused taste more satisfying, more thrilling, than any flavor, any sensation before him.
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She took him fuller into her mouth, taking as much of his throbbing length as she could. Her hand pumped the length she couldn’t. Long fingers tangled into her hair, clutching her, but not guiding her. He let her set the pace, let her swallow as much of him as she could. She was his anchor. And she found his trust, his faith, that she would love him and bring him to completion an incredible turn-on. The lips of her pussy felt heavy and swollen, not quite as heavy and swollen as her man, but damned close. Her man. Her clit pulsed, the muscles of her vagina constricted. As if Leandros could feel her reaction to him, his cock pulsated against her lips, her tongue, the back of her throat. She sucked him in deeper, loving the panting breaths and the low guttural moans he made as she pumped up and down his shaft with her lips and hand. She picked up her pace, and his hand knotted tighter in her hair. His breath came in harsh gasps. He hardened even more as his climax neared. She pulled back, running her tongue around his sensitive head, keeping him right on the verge, but not allowing him his release. She looked down at his glistening shaft. Dark mauve. Close to a color she’d just used to paint a client’s dining room. She loved that color. She liked it better on him. “Eve, please. Don’t stop sucking me.” She smiled up at his heavy-lidded, smoldering expression he gave her. Even when he begged, he looked sexy and arrogant. Parting her lips again, she slid him back into her mouth, taking his length down her throat. She pumped and licked and sucked, her fingers working over the base of his cock in the same rapid fashion. She felt him tense, his fingers tangling almost roughly in her hair. His cock pulsed in her mouth, hot and alive. He started to pull back, but she caught one of the cheeks of his ass, digging her fingers into the taut muscles, holding him deep in between her lips.
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His cock throbbed again. She sucked him, then he shouted out as he came, his hot seed hitting the back of her throat, thick and tangy and exciting. Sneaking a glance at him, she continued to lick his still twitching length. His head was back against the wall, his eyes closed, his lips parted. He looked so wanton, so sexy. And he was hers. Eve kissed the head of his cock and then sank back to admire him more fully. “Damn,” he mumbled. She laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He opened his eyes, smiling down at her with one of his sultry half smiles. “Definitely.” But if Eve had expected her blow job to sate him, she was wrong. Even as he looked down at her, his semi-flaccid cock began to enlarge again. She started to reach for him again, but he caught her hand, pulling her to her feet. He tugged her tight to his chest and kissed her, hard. A thrill ran through her at the need and the hunger in his kiss. “You are insatiable,” she murmured against his lips as their embrace gentled. “Only for you.” Eve’s heart expanded. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this alive, this connected to another person. Then he kissed her again, and she was lost in the feeling of his lips moving over hers, his hands stroking over her back, his long, muscled body pressed to her. After several minutes, he broke the kiss. Or maybe it was hours, it was hard to keep track when all she could focus on was him and how he made her feel. He kicked off the leather pants, leaving himself totally nude. “Come here,” he said, capturing her hand, tugging her toward the sofa. She followed, admiring the lean muscles ripping under his golden skin. He had the best body, she thought with a pleased sigh. When they reached the sofa, he stopped. “What are we doing?”
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He faced her. “First I’m going to get you out of these clothes.” He reached for the laces of her corset, but she caught his hand. “Shouldn’t we go into our room?” Leandros considered the door, then the couch. “Our room is way over there, and the couch is here.” He gave her a look that said the choice was obvious. She laughed. “But Cassie or—Beau…” She hated to even say the other man’s name for fear it would ruin the closeness she’d found with Leandros. But Leandros didn’t react to him. “They could come out at any moment,” she finished. “Well, it isn’t like they haven’t seen us nude already,” he said with a wry smile, although there was no judgment in his dark eyes. “And I want you now.” As if to punctuate his need, he slipped his hand in the slit of her bloomers to lightly brush the curls of her sex. She nearly turned to a puddle of lust right there, and he’d hardly touched her. He stopped his barely there caresses and moved to the waistband of the bloomers, working them down her hips. The air felt torturous on her over sensitized skin. Then his hands moved to her breasts. He stroked her pebbled nipples through the cotton. “I like this. What was your scenario?” Even though she was having a hard time thinking about anything besides his fingers on her breasts, she managed an ironic smile. “It was the seduction of the virgin scenario. The aliens really got confused on that one, didn’t they?” He regarded her, his expression unreadable and for a moment, she worried that the distant Leandros was back. Then one of his hands came up to caress her cheek. “Then I’ll have to be very gentle, won’t I?” She blinked, and before she could respond, he kissed her. The brush of his lips was soft and warm against hers, and infinitely tender. He pressed delicate kisses down the side of her neck and over her chest. “Your skin is beautiful,” he told her between kisses. “Pale and silky and untouched.”
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Eve didn’t know how to interpret his words. Was he mocking her? “Lean—” He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “Shh, don’t be nervous. I’ll make this good for you. Very good.” She had no doubt about that. “Let’s take off this corset. It looks tight.” His fingers moved to the laces of the corset, untying the white satin ribbons that held it together. He kissed each inch of the skin he exposed until the cotton parted revealing her breasts. He studied her, his eyes roaming down her body. Her pulse reacted, as did her desire. Both pounded through her veins centering to the apex of her thighs. The blow job had already stoked her need. Now his hungry look was enough to ignite her. She was desperate to feel his long, heavy cock inside her. She whimpered. “Leandros, please. I need you.” He smiled. “Patience. I don’t want to rush. You need to go slow and let me prepare you to take me.” She glanced down at his cock bobbing up against his belly. She could feel the juices drenching her pussy. Oh, she was prepared, but she decided it was rather exciting to go along with his little game. “I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “How will you ever fit in here?” She dropped her hand to her arousal slicked curls. She kept her hand cupped over herself and blinked up at him. His stared at the hand between her thighs, but finally he managed to tear his gaze away, meeting her eyes. She could see his pupils were dilated and his breath came in short, uneven puffs. Yes, this game was definitely a good idea. “I’ll fit,” he assured her, but his voice was a little breathy. “How? You’re so big, and I’m so small.” She blinked again. A slight smile pulled at the corner of his lips, but he quickly masked it. “Move your hand, and I’ll show you.”
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She pretended to hesitate, even though all she wanted was for him to touch her. Finally, after another coy look, she dropped her hand. But instead of touching her there, as she thought he would, he moved forward and caught her lips. His tongue brushed with hers, his teeth nibbled the tender, sensitive flesh of her bottom lip. But he kept the rest of his body distant from hers. Only their lips touched, and the sweetness of it was breathtaking and so arousing. “You’re good at virgin seduction,” she murmured. She felt him smile against her mouth. “You make a good virgin.” Then he moved to her breasts, raining kisses down over the swell of first one breast then the other. Again aside from the hands, which he now held fast at her hips, none of his body touched hers except for his mouth. And what a mouth. He licked and nibbled one nipple, then he shifted to the other. She clutched his shoulders to keep her balance as he suckled her. He pulled one taut nipple deep into his mouth and she gasped. Releasing the nipple, he looked up at her, his brow furrowed. “Are you okay?” She raised an eyebrow at that. He knew full well she was more than okay. She was great. “Maybe you should lie down.” He directed her to the sofa. She started to shrug off the parted corset, but then thought better of it. Instead she pulled it around her and perched on the edge of one of the cushions, regarding him with nervous eyes. Another half-smile tugged at the corner of his lips. But he tempered his amusement with a softly stated, “Trust me, Eve.” The words were part of the game, but this was what was happening between them. They were finally trusting each other. She released the corset and slid back on the cushions, angling herself down the length. Leandros sat down on the edge, facing her, his hip pressed to hers. Slowly he reached out and placed a large hand on her bare stomach.
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“God, baby, you are so beautiful.” She watched his face as he touched her skin. His fingers, his eyes seemed to worship her. She touched his jaw, feeling the beginnings of stubble under her fingers. Their eyes locked, and she hoped he saw all the emotion inside her. “Leandros,” she whispered. “Please love me.” He stared at her a moment longer. “Are you sure?” She knew his question was no longer part of the game. He needed to know that he was the one she’d chosen. No others. No matter what happened between them. “Yes. I’ve waited a long time for you,” she told him. “I want to be yours.” He leaned forward and kissed her, the hand on her belly sliding downward, stroking the curls between her thighs. For a moment, he just held her. She loved the feeling of his broad palm, his long fingers shaping to the curved mound. The action was so possessive, yet so tender. No man had ever touched her like that, like he was holding his whole world in his hand. No one except Leandros. “You are mine,” he whispered against her lips, the faintness of his voice not stealing any of the conviction in his words. “Yes,” Eve agreed without hesitation, then sank her fingers into his wavy locks, pulling him to her for a kiss as filled with gentle possession as his hand at the juncture of her thighs. As they tasted each other, slowly, sensually, his fingers began to move. First just testing the silkiness of her pubic hair, then tracing the slit of her sex, teasing her. No, not teasing her, she realized. Still seducing his virgin. She nipped his soft bottom lip, then spread her legs slightly, which caused his finger to slide between her labia. She moaned, raising her hips up against his touch. His smile curved against her lips. “Hmm, I have a greedy little virgin.” “No, you have a desperate virgin. I need you to touch me.” He pulled back from her. Her skin tingled as his hot gaze roamed slowly down her body.
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“Where do you want me to touch you?” He raised an eyebrow, his half-smile insanely sexy. “Everywhere.” He smile widened. “So…here?” He brushed the pad of his finger lightly over her super-sensitive clit. Her hips immediately rose up in response. “That works,” she managed to say between gasps. His gentle touches, his intense, reverent look, it was all working to make her more aroused then she could stand. “Or maybe I should touch you here,” he said, his hand leaving her pussy to cup her breast. He gently squeezed her nipple, sending another wave of need ricocheting madly through her body. “Oh my God!” She gasped as he plucked her nipples again. “Anywhere is great just as long as you’re touching me.” Leandros watched her expression as she pressed against him, her back arching, the parted corset framing her perfect breasts, her delicate ribs and flat belly. Damn, she took his breath away. His gaze drifted lower to the small thatch of dark curls between her lovely thighs. He wanted to go slow. He wanted to seduce her. But his dick kept prodding his stomach as if to say, “Get going, buddy. I’m dyin’ here.” But then there was his heart. And as far as talking organs went, that one gave him more pause. His cock had always had a lot of opinions when he had sex. That was a given. But his heart, that particular organ had never spoken up. Not once, until now. Now, for every time his cock urged him to hurry up, his heart told him to slow down, draw this out, memorize this moment. He leaned forward and caught Eve’s taut little nipple like a small precious jewel between his lips, curling his tongue around it. He moved to the other one, tonguing that nipple until it shone like an exquisite ruby. He pressed kisses over the gentle, soft swell of her breast to the flatness of her belly. He dipped his tongue into her belly button, loving the shiver that rippled through at the fleeting touch.
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Nibbling downward, his lips brushed the silky hair of her lovely, warm pussy. Her fingers tangled in her hair as he kissed her there. He wanted to taste her, to love her with his mouth. With his whole body. When he would have tasted her, lapped up the juices of her desire, she tugged his hair. He looked up at her. She regarded him with those dark eyes, heavy with her passion. Passion and something more. So much more. “Please, I need you inside me. I don’t want to come this time without you with me.” His heart, which had been telling him to go slow, suddenly changed camps, siding with his cock. He wanted that too. There would be more time to use his hands and mouth to satisfy her. This time was about being one with her. Being her only one. He crawled onto the sofa, positioning himself in the cradle of her thighs. She moaned, her eyes closing, her lips parting as his weight came down on her. His lips again found hers, this kiss a bit rougher, a bit more desperate than the others. Her hands came around him to stroke his hair, his shoulders, his back. And her pelvis kept rising, her pubes rubbing against the sensitive underside of his cock, driving him mad with their silky massage. He returned the gesture, moving his hips until his cock slipped between her pussy lips, the swollen head repeatedly nudging her clit. She groaned again, the sound vibrating from her straight into him. She broke the kiss. “Please Leandros. I can’t wait.” He nodded, capturing her lips in a brief, hard kiss. Then he nudged her legs up more, so her sex was spread open. He knelt back, looking at the delicate lips of her cunt, pink and glistening with her arousal. Eve watched him, her breathing nothing more than shallow pants. He couldn’t resist touching her there, his fingers tracing the fragile, moist flesh. His thumb caressing her tiny swollen clit.
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She gasped, and he could feel her whole sex quiver with her reaction. He continued with another brush of his thumb. Another even more violent shiver. Then her hand came down and caught his hand. “Inside me, now.” He smiled at her order. If a man had to get an order, that was a damned good one. He looped her legs up over his thighs, so that he could remain kneeling. Then he positioned himself, angling the head of his cock to enter her. He watched as excruciatingly slowly he pressed inch after inch of his length into that tight pussy. Eve whimpered, still watching him watching her. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice ragged. “Take me.” Eve nodded. “Yes. God, yes.” Leandros entered her as deeply as the position would allow, then he moved back over her. The new angle allowed him to fill her completely. His cock was buried in her body, her heat, to the hilt. For a moment, he didn’t move. He just memorized the expression on Eve’s face. He took notice of the way her legs circled him. The way her hands touched his skin. The way her cunt squeezed him in tiny spasms. She squirmed under him, desperate. He smiled, the gesture a little strained by his own need, and he began to move in smooth, steady thrusts, pulling himself out to the tip of his cock, then slowly entering her until their pelvises met. He kept up this pace, building her with each full, deep penetration toward release. The whole time their gazes held. Their connection to each other far beyond sex. Far beyond anything Leandros had ever encountered. In his world, sex had always been hard and fast and intense. He had no idea slow and easy could be a thousand times more intense. Desire pulsed in his veins, in his skin, in the air that surrounded them. Each stroke of their joined bodies, each brush of skin against skin, of their deep breaths, of their eyes watching each other, his need grew. His body ached for release, yet it never wanted this overpowering sensation to end.
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But he did want to feel Eve’s release. He picked up his pace, just a fraction, and he moved his hand to where they were joined, finding her clit. With the first swirl of his finger, Eve arched under him, her orgasm hitting her in long, powerful shudders that wrung a broken cry from her. He continued to stroke her, just light circles with his finger, drawing out her climax. “Leandros!” she shouted as another orgasm hit like one violent pounding wave after another. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his back as she shook even more violently than she had with the first. Her rapturous expression pushed his barely restrained control to the edge. His own orgasm was as fierce as hers, his semen jetting deep inside her in short, body-shaking spurts. He growled deep and loud as he seemed to come and come. Finally, he collapsed on top of her, his body feeling completely drained, completely satisfied. “Oh my God,” Eve said weakly, then pressed a kiss to his shoulder. He managed a nod. That was the most amazing and overwhelming thing he’d ever experienced. “I’ve never felt that connected to anyone,” she whispered between more fluttering kisses on his shoulder and neck. Neither had he. And even in his absolute satisfaction, a small flicker of fear played in his stomach. He tried to ignore it, but it still burned low in his chest like a pilot light waiting for someone or something to ignite it. Eve angled her head. “Are you okay?” He nodded, bracing his weight on one elbow. He brushed his hair out of his face with the other. “It was perfect.” That was what scared him. She smiled. He loved her smile, pretty and a little naughty all at once. “And we just had two firsts,” she said. “What?” he asked.
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“We had sex lying down. And chemical free.” That almost shocked the fear away. Almost. Until he realized that made the perfection of their lovemaking even more frightening. He couldn’t attribute his reaction to her on the drugs. He couldn’t even chalk it up to a wild scenario. His reaction had been created totally by Eve. And Eve alone. “And,” she added as if she was reading his thoughts, “it was even more intense. Even more wonderful than with the chemicals.” He nodded, unable to talk. Eve sighed. “Fantastic.” Leandros buried his head in the crook of her neck and simply held her. Yeah, fuckin’ fantastic. He was on a spaceship with aliens who wanted him for adult entertainment, he was madly in love for the first time in his entire life, and even though Eve did want him, she was still engaged to another man. And he had no idea what to do with any of this.
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Chapter Twelve
When Beau woke up, the first thing he saw was Cassie’s sweet, beautiful face next to his on the pillow, asleep. A sight that made his heart swell and his stomach sink at the same time. She was his. Every single thing they’d shared together in this bed made him sure of it. But for how long? He tore his eyes off her, rolled onto his back, tucked her sleeping body safely under his arm, and sighed. Then he saw them. A pair of familiar jeans hung from a peg on the back of the bedroom door. “Hot damn!” he cheered, and launched himself out of bed. Yup. They were his favorite jeans, all right. And his Lynyrd Skynyrd T-shirt was hanging underneath them, along with a clean pair of boxer shorts. He pulled them off the hook and saw that there was also a pretty yellow sundress hanging there. “You look like a very happy man.” He turned to see Cassie sitting up in bed, watching him with a smile. Her pixie hair was ruffled up around her face, and her eyes were sleepy and adorable. “Hey,” he said, “I’ve got you, and now I’ve got my jeans. All I need is my truck and my dog, and I’ll be in heaven, spaceship or no spaceship.” Cassie spotted the sundress. “And that’s my dress! Finally, I’ve got some normal clothes to wear!” She clapped her hands and bounced in the bed, a movement that seriously distracted Beau from his T-shirt. He dropped the clothes on the bottom of the bed and threw himself onto the heartshaped mattress beside her, scooping her into his arms. “I like you fine naked,” he said, pressing kisses to her forehead and cheeks. www.samhainpublishing.com
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Cassie lifted her face to his and kissed him on the mouth, sweet and passionate enough to take his breath away. When they parted she ran a finger over his features, and then frowned as something occurred to her. “Is your dog all right, do you think? You’ve been away for awhile.” Beau nodded. “He’s a howler. As soon as he gets hungry, he’ll get noisy, and my neighbors will call one of my brothers to come feed him and let him out. He’s probably sitting in Dwight’s pickup right now while my brother drives all around Sawyer’s Cross looking for me so he can cuss me out.” Cassie looked relieved, and he smiled at her compassion for an animal she didn’t even know. “What’s his name?” she asked, reaching for her dress and pulling it over her head. “Boo. He’s a mutt, mostly hound. About this big.” He held his hand up to bloodhound level above the mattress. “If he were in bed with us now he’d be drooling all over your face.” “Why did you name him Boo?” “I usually tell people it’s because he looks so dopey I had to give him a scary name to make him act like a guard dog.” “But that’s not the real reason.” He looked at her open, curious face, and realized she was probably one of the few people he knew that would understand the truth. “No. I named him after Boo Radley, in To Kill a Mockingbird. It’s one of my favorite books. But most of my friends would think I was pretty weird naming my dog after a book.” He shrugged. “They aren’t big readers.” “I like that book, too,” Cassie said simply. “Will you zip me up?” He did up the zipper at the back of her dress, wondering how it was that he’d spent a couple days in an alien spaceship with her, and he was revealing more about himself to her than to the guys he’d known since he was a kid. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck before he pulled on his own clothes and opened the door adjoining the main room.
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Then he saw what had been going on in the main room. Beau quickly turned back to face her, to block her view. “Maybe we should talk about some of your pets,” he suggested, placing his hands on her hips to walk her backwards away from the scene on the sofa. “I had a cat once called Peaches,” she started, but then her eyes widened as she saw what Beau had been trying to hide. Beau glanced over his shoulder following her gape. Leandros was lying full-length on the couch, totally naked, his arms wrapped around the equally naked Eve. Beau looked back to Cassie, who still stared although her expression was less shocked. “Maybe they couldn’t find their door,” she said. “Well, looks like they made up, anyway.” Cassie nodded, then looked at Beau. “Should we let them sleep?” “We can hear you,” Leandros said, stretching, completely unconcerned with his nakedness. Eve pulled her corset around herself and sat up to grab a cushion and placed it over her lap. “I didn’t. Damn.” “You got nothing to hide, baby. You’re beautiful.” Leandros planted a kiss on her cheek. “You got nothing to hide either, darlin’,” Beau told Cassie, although he was glad she was dressed. He still wasn’t into his letting other men look at this woman. Call him oldfashioned, but that was just how he was. “Morning,” said Eve, still looking flustered, but smiling at Beau and Cassie. “Where did you guys get your clothes?” Strangely, Cassie felt no jealousy. Eve was so obviously besotted with Leandros; even her little sideways glance at him as she held her corset together betrayed her feelings. “They were in our room,” Cassie told her. She smiled back at Eve and did a little twirl. “I’m so happy to be wearing something normal.”
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“I love that dress,” Eve told her, and then she glanced again at Leandros, letting her hand rest on his naked thigh. “D’you think we have clothes in our room too?” Leandros shrugged, clearly unconcerned. “I’ll just go check,” Eve said. She stood up, still holding the cushion over her privates, and then quickly turned, transferring the cushion to cover her butt. She hurried to the door of their room. Leandros got up and followed her. Cassie averted her eyes from the sight of his naked ass, but she heard Eve squeal and giggle. “Well, there goes the cushion,” Beau said beside her, and he took her hand. He headed for the couch first, then clearly thought better of it, and led her to a double-size armchair. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. “So what was Peaches like?” Cassie laughed. “Is this your way of pretending we didn’t just greet naked people?” “Yup.” “Peaches was a big black cat with a really, really bad attitude.” Beau chuckled. “And you named her Peaches?” “No, I named her Satan. My mom changed it.” “I like your name better,” Beau said. “I like you,” Cassie said, giving him a soft, sweet kiss. Again, Beau had that awful sinking feeling. He liked her way too much and he didn’t think her attempt to have him was going to end up any better than her attempt to name her cat. “Yay, we got clothes too!” Eve cheered as she stepped out of their room in a long green skirt decorated with groovy sequined swirls and a plain black tank top. Leandros followed behind her, wearing a pair of black leather trousers and nothing else. “Oh,” Cassie said, her voice full of sympathy, “you didn’t get your own clothes back, Leandros. That’s too bad.” “What?” Leandros said, frowning down at himself, then he shook his head. “I did. These are my leather pants.”
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“Oh,” said Cassie, her cheeks flushing pink. “I just thought—I mean, they’re like the ones—” Leandros shrugged. “I guess me and the aliens have the same taste.” “I actually have leather pants, too,” Beau admitted. “Really?” Cassie asked, interest filling her voice. Eve went up to Beau and Cassie and she held out her hand to Cassie. “I’m really sorry about what happened,” she said. Cassie hesitated, but took her hand. “That’s okay. I can’t blame you. You know, because of the chemicals and well,” she glanced at Beau. “I couldn’t resist him either.” “Great, Beau is the irresistible one.” Beau laughed, the sound humorless. “Yep, that’s me.” Eve squeezed Cassie’s hand and looked into her eyes for a moment before she turned back to Leandros. “Lover, you are totally irresistible. And sexy. And talented.” She crooked her finger. “Come over here and sit on the couch with me and I’ll stroke your…ego…some more.” Beau watched the couple cuddle on the couch and felt a measure of relief. Everything seemed to be fine. Well, as fine as they could be in this bizarre situation. Suddenly this bizarre situation seemed far more appealing then the option of going back to his other life. At least here, Beau got to have Cassie. “So,” Leandros said, his arm possessively around Eve’s waist, “what’s next? What are we going to do about this whole alien deal?” Beau shrugged. “Dude, I have no idea. But I’m starving. Is anyone else starving?” “Yes,” Eve said vehemently. As Beau was quickly learning was the way of things on alien ships, a huge buffet appeared. “There really are some things to love about this joint,” Leandros commented. Yes. Quite a few things, Beau thought, going with Cassie to the table full of food. “Though the decor isn’t quite one of them,” Eve said. “I like the red couch, but we really need some windows in here.”
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“I wonder what would be outside the windows if we had them,” Cassie mused. “Lots of weird, peeping Tom aliens,” Leandros said. He handed Eve a plate, and spooned some potato salad onto it. He didn’t seem all that worried about the peeping Tom aliens, she thought. But then again, he was that way. Confident, secure in himself, in who he was and how he looked and what he did. She could tell he spent his life on a stage. “Oh dear, I sort of forget about them out there watching,” Cassie said, blushing. “Well, then dang, I guess I’m doing something right. I don’t want you thinking about the aliens when I’m—” Cassie shoved a pickle at Beau. “Here try this.” Beau smiled, but then obediently opened his mouth. He took a bite out of the pickle. “Mmm.” His eyes surveyed the table as he chewed. “This all looks good, but I could really do with some chicken.” A plate of hot roasted chicken appeared on the table in front of him. “Thanks,” Beau said, and took a drumstick. Eve shook her head. “How do they do this? Do you think this food is even real?” “It’s real,” Leandros said. “In a situation like this you just have to believe what you can. Otherwise, it’s too…” “Scary,” Cassie supplied. Leandros didn’t respond but Eve got the feeling that would have been his word too. Not that he’d have actually said it. She glanced at him; he was toying with his fork. Then he shook his head a little bit and took a bite of food. “Well, we are real. We know that,” Beau said, obviously feeling a need to reconfirm the things that were true and normal. Then he frowned. “At least I think you are real. There was the maid chick.” “The maid chick?” A crease appeared between Cassie’s eyes. “She was in our scenario, but she didn’t do anything,” Eve said quickly.
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“She didn’t seem to know she was on a spaceship. She was just acting like she was a nineteenth century maid.” “What if they brainwashed her,” Cassie said, and her fork clattered on her plate. “I read a book about cults and it’s incredible what people can make other people believe.” “Well, they haven’t brainwashed us,” Beau said. “Yet,” Leandros said. “You don’t know if you’ve been brainwashed,” Cassie said. “That’s how you get brainwashed.” Beau cupped Cassie’s chin in his hand. “Babe, we’re not brainwashed. Everything we feel is real.” She nodded, seeming to take strength from his direct gaze. Eve looked at Leandros. He watched them too. Then he said, “Beau’s right. What we are feeling with each other. This, right now, is real. We can’t doubt that. It will just make us crazy if we do.” She felt something in her soften. She leaned over and kissed his jaw, rough with stubble. How long had they been here, anyway? Emotionally, it felt like a lifetime. But they’d only had two meals, two sleeps, and Leandros’s chin was rough, but not like it would be after a few days. “As long as we stay cool with each other. We’ll be okay,” Beau said, his gaze falling on each of them. Leandros nodded. “But how can we escape?” Cassie asked. “We can’t. We don’t even know where we really are.” Eve had to agree. It was pretty hard to escape a place that was always changing, and where nothing was real. Except for four clueless humans. And an asexual alien or two. “Well, the food feels real, anyway,” Beau said, finishing another piece of chicken. “The food is real,” a strange voice said from the other side of the table. Eve dropped her empty plate. The alien stood across from them. Was it the same one as before? She squinted, but couldn’t tell. It looked the same—gray, appendaged, weird,
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with those strangely human eyes—but maybe they all looked the same. They reproduced asexually, so maybe they were all clones of each other. “As I promised, I have discontinued the chemicals in your living quarters,” the alien said, revealing that it was indeed the same one. “However, I am very pleased you mated. Nisom and Andyr were not aware of the change.” Eve tried to follow the alien’s words. “You mean the other aliens thought we were still being drugged?” she said. “Yes. I was experiencing anxiety about my comrades discovering that I had tampered with their experiment. But your sexual performance was impressive. Nisom is very satisfied.” “Nisom isn’t the only one,” muttered Leandros. “I am curious,” said the alien, its eyes waving on its stalks. “In my observation, your most recent intercourse appeared to be more pleasurable than the other times. Is this due to the lack of external stimulant, or is it some intrinsic motivation?” “It’s better when you’re really connected to the other person,” Cassie said quietly. “Doing it how and why you choose to do it.” “Your assertion interests me. Does this mean that your sexual acts with the people you had not chosen were not pleasurable?” Eve felt her entire body flush—she wasn’t sure whether with embarrassment, or anger. “There’s pleasure, and there’s pleasure,” Leandros said, and she felt a rush of gratitude and tenderness that he was defending her. “I mean taking a whiz is pleasurable in some ways, but it’s not the ultimate in experiences. You do it because you have to. That’s all.” Eve wasn’t sure that peeing was the greatest analogy for her having sex with Beau, but she supposed it would do. “Whiz?” Lubda asked. “You know, urinating,” Beau explained. “Although I don’t think I’m in on this whole whizzing being pleasurable. But, yeah, that’s what he meant.”
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“And no offense to Beau, but I’d just as soon not go through that whole thing again,” Eve said. “Ah,” Lubda said. “It was traumatic. I thought as much. Why is that so?” “Because we,” Beau paused, frowning as if he didn’t know quite what to say. “Because I care about Beau,” Cassie finished for him. “And he cares about me. I like Leandros and Eve fine. Even a little more than peeing. But I don’t want to have sexual relations with either of them.” “And how does this caring happen?” Lubda asked. “I am curious. Odilians must take a long time before they learn to trust and respect each other. There are many customs and rituals to be performed. The process may take years. Yet you have known each other a short time.” Eve flickered her eyes to Leandros. How had it happened? So quickly, and so intensely? She barely knew this man, and yet she was sure she wanted to change her entire life for him. To change the future she’d planned for and thought she’d needed. She saw him glance at her, too, and their eyes caught. She remembered how, last night, she’d said she’d never felt so connected. And he’d said nothing, only held her. She knew he felt the same connection she did; there was no way they could’ve made love as they had if he didn’t. But he was a damn sex god. He had to have had plenty of other women. And who was to say that he hadn’t felt the same incredible way with any number of them? “You just know,” Cassie said, seeming to back up Eve’s thoughts. “Interesting,” said Lubda. “Listen,” Beau said, “I’m glad this is interesting for you, but I think you need to stop doing these experiments on us. Let us be with who we want to be with.” “The other Odilians do want to mix you up again. In eventual time. Nisom is interested in the possibility of same-gendered pairings. They want to test all possibilities before we take your encounters live.” Leandros shook his head. “I am not fucking Beau.”
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“No fuckin’ way,” Beau agreed “Then again, if the girls wanted to—” “No,” Cassie and Eve interrupted Leandros in unison. “I’ll fuck Cassie till the cows come home, but that’s it,” Beau stated. “I will try to accommodate your wishes,” the alien said. “Including the cows. Other aspects may be difficult. I can sabotage the chemical administration, and I can recommend scenarios, but the ultimate decision is not mine.” “Wait,” Eve said slowly. “Did you say ‘live’?” Lubda’s eyestalks bobbed. “Yes. That is the ultimate purpose for you being here. You will be the stars of a live reality show.” “I always wanted to be famous, but not exactly like this.” Leandros shook his head. “Man, that is way more out there than Tommy and Pamela,” Beau stated. “Why can’t you just use the brainwashed people to be your entertainment? They will do whatever you want,” Cassie asked. “Brainwashed people?” “The maid in the seduction scenario,” Eve clarified. “Oh. Understood. She is not material. A hologram.” “Why don’t you use holograms?” Leandros asked. “We have for many years. However they are necessarily predictable, as they are programmed by Odilians. We were endeavoring to discover a more authentic experience which would surprise us. Such as we have found with you.” “We’ve surprised us too,” Leandros said. “How long will you keep us here? Will we ever be released?” Eve asked. Lubda’s quills rose and clattered together. “We did not plan to release you.” “What?” Leandros exclaimed angrily. “You’re planning to breed us or something? Or are you going to hold on to us until we’re geriatric and then dump our wrinkly asses into space?” “I no longer agree with our original scheme. I am determining how best to liberate you and transport you back to Earth.”
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“Good food, good sex. As long as you don’t mix us up,” Beau threw a worried glance at Leandros, “then this isn’t really half bad.” “What are you, wacked?” Leandros asked, clearly appalled. “Don’t you want to go back to the real world?” Beau shrugged. “Not overly.” He pulled Cassie tighter against him. “Well, I do,” Eve said. “I have things that have to be sorted out.” She gave Leandros a significant look. “Plus I do like to go outside every now and then.” “We can simulate that,” Lubda said. “But I feel it is necessary to help those of you who wish to leave, to escape. Odilians are not a dictatorial race. We do believe in free will. We just did not understand humans as we should have when we started this experiment. However, if you wish to stay,” it looked at Beau, “then that would be fine.” “I want to escape,” Cassie said. “Right.” Beau nodded. “Right. We do need to escape.” “How do we do it?” Eve asked. “I do not know. I need time to find the best way,” Lubda said. “Meanwhile—” Cassie said. “When I am with you, I have programmed the viewers with holograms so that the others will not see us. At other times, it is best if you do not speak of escape. Nisom and Andyr do not understand human language as I do, but they are learning.” “No problem,” said Leandros. “We can use some sort of X-rated code word for escape. Like—like ‘fisting’.” “Fisting?” said Cassie, her face confused. “Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” Beau said. “There is one other consideration,” said Lubda. “I believe that the most efficient way of preventing Nisom and Andyr from varying your partnerships again is to ensure that they receive the best possible entertainment from keeping you together.” “So we have to put on a really good porn show,” Leandros said. “Affirmative. It must not be noticeable that I have blocked the chemicals.” “Not a problem,” Beau said, again pulling Cassie close.
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“No,” Cassie agreed, “not a problem at all.” “Could be a lot of fun,” Eve added. “Will be a lot of fun,” Leandros corrected, leaning forward and kissing Eve hard.
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Chapter Thirteen
“Ahh…ahhh…God yes. Yes!” Andyr’s head cocked, trying to better see and understand the scene playing out on the screen. “I would not have thought that position possible for a human.” Nisom’s eyestalks moved closer to the scene. “It is amazing.” “Yes,” Andyr agreed. The action on the screen continued, but Lubda didn’t watch with the same rapt fascination. Instead, the Odilian carefully pressed the sequence of buttons that would replicate the human’s movements, which were used to create the holograms of them. “Lubda?” Lubda jumped, eyes snapping around guiltily. “Yes.” Nisom frowned, but then asked, “This human called Leandros. Are you sure he is indeed human?” “Positive. Why?” “His sexual performance, it is far beyond what we would expect even with the pheromones.” Lubda glanced at the screens again just as Leandros moved Eve out of her contorted position and dragged her to the edge of the desk. A phone and a date book fell to the floor, although the crashing items didn’t give him pause. He plunged his penis deep into Eve’s vagina. She cried out, falling back onto the desk, her body arching up to meet each of his hard thrusts. “You have no idea,” Lubda mumbled. “What?” Nisom asked.
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“You have no idea how lucky we were to find such a potent human male,” Lubda said quickly. The humans knew it was important to keep up the pretense of uncontrollable desire so Nisom and Andyr wouldn’t guess the chemicals had been blocked. And they had done well thus far. Surprisingly well. Which led Lubda to believe that emotion was a far stronger aphrodisiac than even their developed and tested chemicals. “This will be his fourth orgasm if he achieves completion,” Nisom said. “I had intended for Close Encounters to air in one hour intervals, but with this Earthling, I believe we can count on several two hour special events.” Nisom’s appendages vibrated gleefully. Andyr calculated something on the computer. “Even with the chemicals, the likelihood of a human male achieving four orgasms in a two hour period is 1 in 450,017.” “It’s love,” Lubda murmured, quills vibrating softly, but not out of glee. That was what had these humans performing so readily. More reason they had to be freed. They deserved to find happiness together in their own world. “Love?” Nisom’s eyes snapped away from the computer. “Humans love sex.” Lubda gestured to the screen as if to prove the point. Leandros shouted out and ejaculated deep into Eve, who also orgasmed as she chanted Leandros’s name over and over. Lubda examined the couple on the screen, who now collapsed onto each other, whispering gentle words to each other. They needed to be freed. Not that they seemed terribly dissatisfied with their surroundings as it was. In the days since Lubda had stopped the pheromones and started arranging the escape, Leandros and Eve had not encountered a scenario they didn’t like. As if reading Lubda’s mind, Andyr said, “Balling the Boss was obviously a very stimulating scenario. This Leandros did manage to achieve four orgasms in 147 minutes. And Eve, I’ve lost count of her orgasms.” Nisom barked, an Odilian sound of joy. “This couple alone will make us wealthy.”
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Andyr flipped the switch that brought them to Beau and Cassandra’s scenario. “Now, this couple…” Lubda watched as Cassandra ran a hand along the Grecian tiles of the lavish bathroom. She was dressed in a white suit with huge shoulder pads and big gold buttons down the front. She wore chunky gold jewelry and strappy gold high heels. Beau strode into the room, wearing a suit, cowboy boots and a Stetson. “This place is crazy tacky,” he said shaking his head. “Dallas meets Falcon Crest meets The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.” “I don’t know,” Cassandra said, stepping into the huge whirlpool tub. “I think I could enjoy it.” Beau didn’t need any more encouragement than Cassandra giving a significant look down at the tub. He tossed his Stetson onto the counter and shrugged off his suit coat as he walked over to her. He stepped into the tub too, and Cassandra caught his lariat and pulled him into a hungry kiss. In short work, they were both naked, and settled in the tub with steaming water rising up around them. Cassandra straddled Beau as he lavished attention on her breasts. “Darlin’, you are the sexiest thing I have ever seen.” “Your favorite Texan whore?” she asked, in a drawling imitation of Beau’s southern accent. He grinned, a slow curl of his lips. “Absolutely.” She rose up, and even though their actions were hidden by the sides of the tub and under the swirl of water, Lubda could tell when they joined, rapture clear on both their faces. Cassandra moved up and down as Beau touched her breasts, her shoulders, her face, desire and worship in his sleepy blue eyes. She leaned forward and kissed him, tangling her fingers into his long hair. Their movements remained steady, intense. Slick skin sliding against slick skin. Small moans and gasps. Whispered words of encouragement, of pleasure.
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Lubda watched, fascinated. Everything about the way these two touched and communicated during intercourse substantiated the idea that humans experienced intense emotions while copulating. Lubda knew it was true. How did these other two brilliant Odilians not see it? “I think we should give them more chemicals,” Nisom said, suppressing a yawn. “Can you not see these two humans go slow and savor each other because their sex is more than physical gratification? They are connecting in a way that is purely emotional,” Lubda said, even though it was pointless. Nisom studied the screens. The lovemaking had picked up in pace. Their movements growing more desperate, more strained, causing water to slosh over the edge of the tub. The humans noticed, laughing, the sound breathy, but they didn’t slow their tempo. “Lubda, must we continue to hear your emotional drivel? Look at them.” Beau straightened up in the tub, clasping one of his hands to the back of Cassandra’s head, bringing her mouth to his. His other hand splayed on her back, guiding her against him. Her arms and legs encircled him. They now “fucked” like mad Stercreas, small, feral animals on their home planet. Although Stercreas didn’t fuck either. Odilia was a dull planet. “There, the chemicals have taken effect,” Andyr said. Nisom nodded, satisfied with their performance. Lubda went back to carefully pressing the sequence of buttons to make holograms of the humans. There was no hope of getting either Andyr or Nisom to see reason. Going through with the escape plan was the only option.
“How many days do you think we’ve been here?” Cassie asked from where she rested beside Beau on one end of the sofa. Beau slept with the Stetson from the previous scenario over his face. His chest rose and fell, rhythmic and peaceful under Cassie’s cheek, but still she felt agitated.
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Eve looked up from the book she was reading, thanks to Lubda. Lubda had been extremely accommodating with them, probably in gratitude for their porn performances. Eve had even presented the alien with sketches and a list of instructions to redecorate their holographic living quarters. Lubda had been reluctant at first. It had feared that the other aliens would notice the change and suspect Lubda’s collaboration with the humans. But Eve had persuaded the alien, saying Lubda could just say it had done more research into human living habits. So they’d woken up one day to find a transformation. Gone were the shag carpeting and the heart-shaped beds; instead their rooms were modern, stylish, and comfortable. There were even big windows in their living area, looking out into beautiful, vast space. Cassie wasn’t sure if they really showed what was outside of the spaceship; she tried not to think about it too much. “I don’t know,” Eve replied. “Days, weeks.” “It’s impossible to tell, isn’t it?” Eve nodded. Leandros snored softly from where he was sprawled on the floor, his head propped on a large watered silk pillow, an arm flung over his eyes. “Do you miss home?” Cassie asked quietly. Eve nodded. “You?” “Yes and no.” Her fingers gently caressed Beau’s stomach. “I—love being with Beau. But I’d like things to be normal.” Eve glanced at Leandros. “I’d like normal too. Or as normal as things would be with him.” “I’m normal,” Leandros mumbled sleepily. Eve grinned and shook her head. “See, he doesn’t even sleep like a normal guy. Especially after the rigorous day he’s had.” Leandros stretched. “I really liked that last scenario. I love pleasing the boss lady.” Eve laughed. “You are a good little employee.” Leandros frowned up at her. “Little?” Eve gave him an apologetic look. “You know what I mean.”
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Leandros still looked insulted, although Cassie could tell it was feigned. “Would a raise help?” Eve offered, reaching a hand down to rub his leg. Leandros watched her hand, then looked dolefully at his crotch. “There will be no raise for awhile.” Eve laughed. Cassie laughed too, surprised that the interplay between her two friends didn’t make her feel as embarrassed as it once would have. Then she paused again. Her friends. She looked at Eve and Leandros still teasing each other. Then she lifted her head and looked at Beau. These three people were her best friends. How strange, given the circumstances under which they’d met and what they’d been through. Of course, those very things had broken down the barriers. “So what scenario did you two get?” Eve suddenly asked her. Cassie hesitated. She did feel less uncomfortable with the things the others said and did, but she was still a little embarrassed to share the details of her sex life, even though they always ended sharing everything. Leandros leaned into Eve. “Isn’t it so cute that she’s living in porn world and she still blushes?” Cassie rolled her eyes. “We—we had a Dallas type scenario.” Both Eve and Leandros straightened up. “As in the 80’s television show?” Eve asked. Cassie nodded. “Well, that explains Beau’s headwear,” Leandros said. “Wow, you had a whole mansion to get it on in.” Eve looked impressed. “They get the best scenarios.” Leandros shook his head. “I still want the caveman scenario. I’d love to throw Eve over my shoulder and carry her off to my cave.” “Leandros the caveman. Mmm.” Eve sighed as if he’d just offered to take her to a luxurious villa on a private island. Although, Cassie had to admit the caveman scenario
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had been just as good as that. Better actually. Beau did make a fine caveman, and being thrown over his shoulder had been very sigh-worthy. Cassie settled back against Beau, nuzzling her cheek against the soft material of his Aerosmith T-shirt. He murmured and looped an arm around her, but Cassie could tell he didn’t really wake up. “Wow, I’m starving,” Leandros said suddenly amidst a stretch and a yawn. “Me too,” Eve agreed. And just like that, one of the buffet tables laden with food appeared nearby. “God, I love that,” Leandros said, scrambling to his feet. Eve jumped up too. Cassie’s stomach growled, but she didn’t move, not wanting to disturb Beau. Although his sleep didn’t last longer than a few minutes. “Mmm,” he moaned and stretched. Then he nudged his hat up with his thumb. “Do I smell more chicken?” “And ribs,” Leandros said, collapsing on the other end of the sofa with a plate laden with all different types of food. Beau smiled, but instead of jumping up like Cassie expected, he turned his attention back to her. “Why aren’t you eating?” “I was comfortable here with you,” she told him. His smile broadened, and he used his Stetson to shield both their faces as he kissed her, savoring her unhurriedly. “They are so cute,” Eve whispered. Beau smiled against Cassie’s lips before he pulled away and looked over at the other couple contently lounging on each other, munching away at their food. “I’ll bring you a plate,” Beau said and slid out from under her to peruse the food choices. “I tell you this place is better than the buffets in Vegas,” Leandros said, licking barbeque sauce from his fingers. “How many casinos has your band performed in?” Cassie asked. “A dozen or more. Now we’re the regular act at the Starlight.”
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Cassie regarded him as though she were watching a famous rock star. And Leandros basked in her interest. Eve laughed around her bite of salad. “What?” Leandros frowned. “You love attention,” Eve said, not critically, just as an observation. Leandros shrugged as if there was no point in denying it. “I live for the stage, baby.” “Have you ever considered Broadway? I can see you acting,” Eve said. She knew firsthand how much he enjoyed acting out the different scenarios the aliens gave them. And man, he could sing. She loved to lie in bed and listen to him in the shower, his voice rich and melodic. She had no doubt he was an amazing performer. She glanced over at him where he had stopped eating and now considered his mound of mashed potatoes rather intently. “I just saw Les Mis in New York about a month ago,” Cassie said, not picking up on Leandros’s suddenly distracted expression. She paused. “Well, I think it was a month ago, it could be years ago by now.” Beau returned to the sofa, handing Cassie a plate. She thanked him, and he smiled although Eve noticed the smile didn’t sparkle in his blue eyes like it normally did. In fact the rest of the meal was stilted, and neither of the men ate with the usual gusto. Leandros still poked at his potatoes, and Beau only ate one piece of chicken before setting his plate aside. Cassie did notice Beau’s unusual behavior. She touched his knee and quietly asked, “Do you feel all right?” Beau nodded, giving her another strained smile. “Just tired.” Eve got the feeling that wasn’t the whole truth. She glanced back to Leandros, but before she could question him, a familiar monotone voice said, “I can attempt to allow you more time to rest before the next scenario.” “Lubda?” Eve double-checked. “Yes.”
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“What are the next scenarios?” Leandros asked, setting aside his plate. His contemplative expression was gone, replaced by eagerness. Eve shook her head. He was incredible. “Scenario,” Lubda emphasized. “My colleagues are very impressed with your performances.” All its eyes focused directly on Leandros. “But they still want to see if switching you will create the same passion. They are convinced of the inevitability of this. And with more sexual options, they believe they will make more money.” “It ain’t happenin’,” Beau stated. “I know this,” Lubda agreed. “That is why I have manipulated the next scenario to include all four of you.” “All of us?” Cassie said, sounding unsure. “An orgy.” Leandros nodded, neither his expression nor tone indicating the idea bothered him. Eve elbowed him. He hooked an arm around her and pulled her tight to his side, and Eve immediately realized his reaction wasn’t consent but rather a statement. “An orgy would indeed please Nisom and Andyr, and they do believe that you,” Lubda again focused on Leandros, “will readily engage in one.” “Why him?” Beau frowned. “Sex machine,” Eve stated, not particularly pleased that the aliens had slotted her man to be the orgy type. Cassie scooted forward on the sofa. “Beau’s a sex machine,” she said adamantly. “Thanks, darlin’,” Beau said. “I would not deem Leandros a—sex machine as you say, which would imply a lack of emotion and control. He is more a sexual anomaly.” Everyone stared at Leandros. Leandros shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, sex machine. Sex freak. Whatever. I don’t want an orgy. I want Eve.” An odd sense of pride filled Eve.
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Lubda nodded. “That is why I chose this scenario. You will be together, but you can pair up as you wish. That is up to you. I truly believe your pairings to be your own decision.” “Thanks, man,” Beau said, then frowned. “I mean, dude. I mean, thanks.” Lubda nodded again, then disappeared. “This place is so friggin’ weird,” Beau said, shaking his head. And as if to punctuate that thought, the room disintegrated.
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Chapter Fourteen
“Ah, shit!” “Literally,” Beau said from beside Leandros. They both stared down at the rutted dirt road and the brown substance that squished up around Leandros’s scuffed cowboy boot. “Well, it is just a hologram,” Beau said, trying not to laugh at his buddy’s disgusted expression. “Where are we?” Beau looked around at the building-lined streets, weathered clapboards, false façades, and signs reading Cartwright’s Mercantile, Hotel, and Livery. Then he looked down at himself. A button-down shirt, a black leather duster, jeans and cowboy boots. He glanced at Leandros. He was dressed similarly except instead of a long coat, he wore a leather vest and black leather chaps, of course. And a holster with large guns resting on either hip. Beau shifted his own coat to see if he also had guns. He did. A stagecoach rattled past them, a woman, a hologram, with blonde curls and a big feathered hat, batting her eyes at them from one of the windows. “We’re in the wild west,” Beau stated. “Get along little doggies,” Leandros said wryly, trying to scrape his boot off on the bottom step leading up to the mercantile. “I wonder where Cassie and Eve are?” Beau scanned the street. Aside for a few unfamiliar holograms milling around, the town was pretty quiet. “Maybe they’re the shy, protected daughters of the shop owner,” Leandros suggested, glancing up at the portly man in a white apron glaring out the store window at them. “Could be,” Beau agreed. “Or it could be he doesn’t appreciate you scraping crap on his steps.” www.samhainpublishing.com
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Beau noticed another man in a rather dressy-looking coat and vest regarding them with a wary expression. The man ushered the female with him to the other side of the street. “I get the feeling we aren’t well liked here in Dodge.” Leandros stopped fussing with his boot and looked around. Another male hologram, sweeping the wooden sidewalk outside the bank, watched them over his wire-rimmed spectacles. “The holograms are acting a little weird,” Leandros said. “Maybe they know you’re a sexual anomaly,” Beau suggested. Leandros gave him a frown. “Let’s go look for our women. I don’t trust these western holograms. They look horny.” Beau had to agree. They started down the street. “So why do the aliens think you’re a sexual anomaly?” Beau asked. “Because I am,” Leandros said. “I mean with Eve I am. I can’t get enough of her.” Beau nodded. “I understand that. Cassie’s got me all tied up in knots. The more I have her, the more I want her.” Leandros nodded. “I hear ya.” “But apparently not with the,” Beau glanced at him, “not with the… What is it, length of time, or frequency?” Leandros’s brow creased as he considered the question. “Never mind,” Beau said, “I don’t want to know.” He was already well aware of the fact he wasn’t good enough for Cassie in real life. He didn’t need to know he wasn’t good enough for her on a pornship. “Dude, Cassie looks like a very satisfied lady. You’ve been good for her, you know. That was one high-strung woman that arrived here.” Beau didn’t respond. Yes, the Cassie he knew now was less uptight than the one he’d first met, but he didn’t know if he could take credit for that. Cassie had been dying to change, to experience life. He’d just been in the right place at the right time to help her out. Funny, not many men would consider a spaceship the right place or the right time.
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He noticed another cowboy hologram out of the corner of his eyes. The gunslinger leaned against the side of a building, watching them with narrowed, intense eyes. Too intense. His finger stroked the pearled handle of the gun at his side. He licked his dried lips. Beau looked away. Shit. “Do you get the feeling these cowboy guys might not just be interested in our women?” Leandros jerked his head toward another guy watching them from a window in the Boarding House. The man had the same keen expression as the one Beau just saw. “The aliens don’t expect us to have sex with the holograms, do they?” he asked. “Well to quote you, it ain’t happenin’,” Leandros stated. Beau nodded and wondered if the guns at his side would actually shoot holograms. Then he wondered if the holograms’ guns could shoot him. Best not to find out. “Let’s just find Cassie and Eve.” He picked up his pace.
Eve gripped the edge of the seat she suddenly found herself perched on. Except she wasn’t exactly seated, but rather sprawled, and her seat was actually the top of an old upright piano. “What the…” The man playing the piano glanced up at her, a frown clear under his bushy eyebrows and handlebar moustache. He narrowed his eyes in warning, but he didn’t miss a beat as he pounded out a jaunty, slightly off-key tune. Eve stared at him for a moment, taking in his white shirt with blue stripes. Bands that looked like garters in the same blue circled his arms just above the elbows and a bowtie that looked like nothing more than a ribbon, also in the same blue, was tied snugly around his neck. Interesting. She cast a look around. Cigar smoke hazed the room and the sickeningly sweet scent threatened to gag her. Men in cowboy hats, vests and jeans sat around nicked wooden tables, drinking and gambling. For the amount of men, the conversation wasn’t
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loud. In fact the lively piano drowned out the conversation to little more than a low drone. Eve squinted, trying to locate the others. But she didn’t see either Leandros or Beau at the tables. Or at the ornate bar. The piano player nudged her foot and then gestured with his head toward a staircase that lead up to a balconied second floor. Women in various states of garish undress lined the banister. It took a few moments to see beyond the bright colored satin, feathers, pale cleavage and heavily painted faces to recognize Cassie among the women. Cassie wore a red satin dress corseted and with an overlay of black lace. The neckline plunged extremely low, exposing her breasts to the nipples. Fishnet stockings disappeared under the short, tiered skirt, and when she moved, Eve could see the tops of the garters holding the stockings up. Her friend looked around with a confused, mildly nervous expression until she located Eve and pushed away from the banister to start down the stairs toward her. But an older woman, also garishly dressed and plumed, caught Cassie’s arm, forcing her to a halt. The older woman was still beautiful despite the over-applied makeup and deep frown lines scoring her brow. Her dark eyes flashed as she spoke to Cassie. Cassie attempted to tug her arm out of the woman’s—no, the hologram’s, grasp. It was really hard to remember these people weren’t actually human, or even alive. Eve frowned as the hologram didn’t release her, but instead dragged Cassie down the stairs toward the barroom floor. Eve straightened, preparing to jump down to go to Cassie, who now looked more than a little stricken. But the piano player stopped her by placing a hand on her fishnetencased ankle. “Don’t do it, Fancy,” the man warned. Fancy? “Jest sing another one, or else you’ll be gettin’ her wrath, too.”
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She was a singer? She glanced down at herself. She was dressed in green satin, in a dress that reminded her of Mae West. The emerald satin clung to her, skintight all the way down her body, except for the slit up the front that revealed her fishnet-clad legs practically up to her crotch. The whole dress was trimmed in white lace ruffles, and she realized she was wearing a wide-brimmed, ruffled hat. She was more than a singer, she guessed. Eve hesitated, then decided she needed to go to Cassie. Holograms or not, these people looked and felt real. The older woman’s hand certainly looked real digging into Cassie’s wrist. Eve slid forward on the piano, preparing to jump down, but again the piano player’s hand stopped her. “You know Miss Lizzie has a bee in her bonnet about that new gal. Miss Lizzie didn’t get where she is now havin’ her doves displease the customers. That little Ruby is going to find herself in a heap of trouble if she doesn’t start doing what she was hired to. And you are going to be in a heap of trouble too, if you don’t jest stay out of it. I ain’t been much of a pa to you, but I won’t see you losing a good payin’ job over a new gal who thinks she’s too good to lift her skirts.” Eve stared at the man. “You’re supposed to be my father?” Now she knew the holograms weren’t real, no matter how solid they felt. Because this man was not her father. She was never going to see her father again. Her eyes burned, and it wasn’t from the cigar smoke in the room. The man’s large eyebrows became one. “Well, that’s what yer ma told me, and I believed her. Though she worked in this here saloon as a Shady Lady too, just like you.” Eve choked. “My mother was not a whore,” she said, her voice forced out of her. “No, no, course not,” the man soothed, never stopping plunking out a tune on the piano. “That ain’t no word for yer ma. Or you. Yer both good women. Money is money, however you earn it.”
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Eve wanted nothing more than to kick this man halfway to hell. And then to kick the aliens in whatever passed for their asses. How dare they even bring up the idea of her parents. Taunt her with a travesty of what she had lost. An indignant squeal distracted her from her anger for a moment and she looked over to see Miss Lizzie positioning Cassie in front of a table of rough-looking cowboys. “Howdy, gentlemen,” Miss Lizzie said in a low, sultry drawl. “Are you enjoying your evening?” The men nodded and mumbled, barely looking up from their cards and whiskey. “Good,” Miss Lizzie purred, not in the least bit put off by the men’s disinterest. “Good. I have a rare treat for you tonight,” she continued, her voice raising volume, but not losing its purring quality. “This is the newest member of the Shady Ladies.” She shoved Cassie into the center of the room. Cassie stumbled forward, casting a bewildered look around. “She’s a fine little filly, as you can see,” Miss Lizzie said. “But like any good filly, she needs to be broken in.” Men turned from their gambling and boozing, now more interested. “But all you men know breaking in is hard work. So I’m offering this gal for half price.” Cassie spun to look at Miss Lizzie, her green eyes wide with shock and indignation. Being a discount whore to a bunch of holograms was damn insulting. Again Eve started to scoot to the edge of the piano. Again the man claiming to be her pa stopped her. “Fancy, jest sing.” Sing. Her friend was about to get raped by a bunch of scruffy-looking holograms, and her own ankle was being held in a death grip by a man who could never, ever be her father, because her father was dead. “Let go of my fucking leg,” she growled. “Come here, darlin’. You look like a little lady who knows how to show a man a good time.”
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Cassie stepped back from the barrel-chested cowboy. The scent of sweat, horse and liquor overwhelmed her. Did the aliens have to make their holograms quite so real? The woman who’d dragged her out in the middle of these men waited behind her, blocking her escape. She glanced over at Eve. She was arguing with the piano player, and the man held her ankle. Great. Eve had her own creepy admirer. Where were Beau and Leandros? Lubda couldn’t expect them to have sex with these holograms. She had been sure that the alien truly understood that sex was emotional, not something she could do with just anyone. But maybe the other aliens, what were their names, Nissan and Reindeer… What if they had gotten control of the scenario? What if Beau wasn’t coming? Another cowboy reached out and cupped her bottom. Cassie squealed and jumped away. The men laughed. “Miz Lizzie, I’d be happy to break this one in for you.” The man who’d just touched her grinned. He might have been kind of handsome, but it was hard to tell from the waxed Snidely Whiplash moustache and the layer of grime. “I’ll take her,” the man in front of her said, rooting around in his brown suede vest, then pulling out a leather pouch. “I’ll pay two cents more,” Snidely said, holding out the money from the pile of winnings in front of him. “She’s not for sale.” Cassie turned to see Beau and Leandros in the doorway. She started toward them, but Miss Lizzie caught her wrist, her fingernails digging onto Cassie’s skin. So far this porn scenario sucked. “Beauregard. Leonard. My loves.” Leandros glanced over at Beau, and whispered, “Great, now the aliens want us to do an old lady. And I have to be called Leonard?” Beau gave him a confused look, then shrugged. His attention returned to Cassie. Leandros located Eve sitting cross-legged on the top of the piano. Both of her legs were encased in black fishnets and bared nearly to the crotch.
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She looked furious. Her dark eyes were snapping, and her hand was raised. The piano player was holding her by the leg. Leandros caught her eye, and she blinked and seemed to lose some of the anger from her face. The man let go of her leg and spoke to her, his hands making calming gestures. “My boys are just in time.” The older woman gestured to a table near her, never letting go of her tight grip on Cassie’s arm. Leandros and Beau glanced at each other, then they strode into the room. Leandros wanted to go to Eve, but decided against it when Beau started to reach for Cassie, but the old woman jerked her away. Maybe it was better to act along, and see what the hell was the deal with this scenario. He wouldn’t be surprised if all of these holograms were armed and dangerous. He cast a look around as he scraped out a chair and sat down at the table. All the cowboys regarded them with that same intense wariness in their eyes. He’d been performing for aliens for what seemed like weeks now. But for the first time, Leandros really felt like he was being watched. He didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was all the holograms hanging around, though they hadn’t really bothered him when they’d been in the other scenarios. No. It wasn’t that. It wasn’t really the guns, either. It was that whole “sexual anomaly” comment that was unnerving him. Like the aliens were watching him and rating his performance. Like maybe all he’d been doing was performing. Maybe this whole thing—all the porn scenarios, Balling the Boss, My Big, Fat, Greek Erection, even that intense, tender time on the couch—maybe it was all just one great big gig. And nothing else. He looked at Eve, who still remained perched on the piano, looking at him steadily with her deep dark eyes, and something akin to stage fright tightened his chest. Leandros ran his hand through his hair, dislodging dust from the street. So fucking what if this whole thing was another performance? In a lot of ways this spaceship was like Vegas, only even freakier. And he loved performing, always had. He loved the sex
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with Eve, and Eve loved the sex with him. Everything was perfect, the aliens were happy, he was happy. Right? The voice of the older woman interrupted his thoughts. “Now, I know how horny you boys get after a long ride. But you just be patient and talk to your old mama awhile.” “Mama?” Beau said. “Horny?” Leandros added. They both shuddered. The older woman laughed, then tweaked Beau’s hair. “You can try and act like I ain’t your mama. But you were my bad boys first, and you always will be. The Bryson Brothers. I’m so proud of you.” “The Bryson Brothers?” Leandros said. “Hey hold on. Why aren’t we the Maradoupolis Brothers?” “You’ve got to admit, it doesn’t have to same ring to it,” Beau said. The woman released Cassie and pointed for her to go back and join the other women. Cassie hesitated, looking at Beau. The older woman snapped her fingers, then pointed again at the women on the stairs. “Get over there with the others.” Cassie frowned at her. “You’re not a very nice hologram.” Beau chuckled, which got him a stern look from his “mama”. “Go ahead, darlin’,” he said to Cassie. “I’ll be with you as soon as I can.” As soon as Cassie went back to the other women, Mama turned to the bar. “George, bring my boys a drink. Henry, play us some music.” Beau leaned over to Leandros and whispered, “Okay, is it me? Or is this the weirdest fuckin’ porn scenario ever?” “It ain’t you, man,” Leandros assured him. He looked over to Eve and saw that she had hopped off the piano and waited with the other women. She spoke to Cassie and neither woman looked pleased.
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Mama sat down at the table, leaning forward on her elbows. “Okay. So how’d you do?” Leandros and Beau exchanged looks again. “Don’t you dare hold out on your mama,” the hologram ordered. “How much did you get?” Another exchanged look. “A…lot,” Beau said slowly. Mama’s eyes widened. “Show me.” “Show you what?” Leandros said with a cringe. After all, this was supposed to be a porn scenario. God only knew what they were supposed to show—and to their hologram mother. “The money,” Mama whispered. “Oh,” Beau said with such obvious relief that must have been wondering the same thing he was. “The money.” Beau looked at Leandros. Leandros shrugged. Beau thought about it for a moment, then reached into the pocket of his duster. He pulled out a bundle of money. “Put it away,” the older woman hissed. She glanced around. Once she was sure no one had seen, a wide grin curled her scarlet lips. “My smart boys.” The bartender arrived with a round of drinks. Leandros downed his in one swallow. The aliens had surely mixed up this scenario. This was like a bad episode of Bonanza or Big Valley. Porn was generally bad, but it did have a point. Sex. And so far, he didn’t get where the sex was coming into this. As if the aliens had read his mind, Mama turned and called to the women lining the stairs. “Ladies. Get to work.” All the heavily made-up holograms moved onto the floor, swaying through the tables, greeting the men, smiling and flirting.
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Eve made her way toward him, but not before another man pulled her onto his lap. Leandros stood immediately, striding over to the cowboy who was manhandling his woman. Before he could get to her, a red-headed holo-whore jumped into his path. “Leonard,” she purred. “I’ve missed you.” Leandros frowned at the hologram. “You did, huh?” “Mmm-hmm.” She leaned in and kissed him. Or at least tried to, her lips just brushing his before Eve caught the hologram’s auburn locks and yanked her head back. “What are you doing?” Eve asked him, ignoring the holo-whore’s squeal and tugging her dress back into place from where the cowboy hologram had pulled it partway off her breasts. “You said no orgies.” “I don’t want an orgy,” he said. He rubbed his lips where the hologram had touched him. “I want an orgy,” the hologram whore said, batting her eyelashes. “Get away from my man,” Eve said, pushing the woman unceremoniously to the side. The redhead appeared ready to fight until Mama spoke up, her voice stern. “Opal. Leave my son alone. You know that Fancy is his favorite.” “Fancy?” Leandros frowned at Eve. “Apparently that’s my name,” she told him. “And is this your ma? According to that guy over there playing the piano, he’s my pa.” Her voice held anger. More anger than he thought would be caused by a name change and a random parent. After all, he’d had both too, and he was more confused than angry. Maybe she was mad because that hologram had tried to kiss him? “Let’s not talk about the ma thing.” He caught her around the waist and sat in the nearest chair, tugging her onto his lap. “Are you named Fancy because of your clothes, or because you’re a high-class saloon girl?” The aliens had done an amazing job creating holograms that looked and sounded like humans, but Eve felt totally different pressed against him. She felt warmer and alive. His body reacted immediately, his dick hardening, his skin craving her touch.
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For a moment, he wasn’t in a room full of holograms, and he wasn’t being watched by aliens. He was just holding his woman. And compared to Eve, all the other women who’d ever come in and out of his life were like these holograms. They’d felt real, but they hadn’t been real. Not to him. They’d been… Performances. Eve frowned. “I’m so glad to see you,” she told him. “These aliens are—holy shit.” Her eyes widened and her mouth opened. Leandros looked up from her and saw what she’d noticed while he’d been distracted by her body and his thoughts. In seconds, the saloon had gone from Bonanza to Boneanza. Half the scruffy cowboys had stripped off their shirts, exposing greased, muscular chests. More than half of the whores had raised their skirts. Some of the couples had even started to have sex. His stunned eyes settled on a threesome close by them. The cowboy had pulled down his jeans and was sitting on the bar next to a bottle of whiskey, his legs spread. One of the whores was standing between his legs sucking his dick; her red lipstick left marks on his penis. And another cowboy stood behind her, holding her skirt up above her hips, pumping into her from behind. He quickly averted his eyes. Shit, he’d seen porn before—Stig, his guitarist, had one of the most extensive DVD collections in Nevada—but this was a little bit too close-up for him. His gaze fell on Beau, who had stood and backed up against the table where they’d been sitting drinking. Two whores stood in front of him, their big breasts bared and their smiles wide. His face was alarmed, and it looked like he had his hands on the handles of his guns. “Uh, that’s very kind, ladies, but I’m not—” he was saying. “He’s mine!” Leandros shifted his eyes to where Cassie was once again struggling against the woman who’d said she was his and Beau’s mother. Mama held on to Cassie around the waist, pulling her back from Beau.
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“I told you, Ruby, I’m not giving my boy the cheapest, rawest girl in the saloon,” Mama said. “He deserves better than you. Go back to the fool who offered money for you before he sees sense and changes his mind.” Eve had clearly noticed what was going on, too. “I think they need help,” she said, sliding halfway off his lap. Leandros got ready to stand up, until he saw Cassie reach out and grab the whiskey bottle that was beside the ass of the cowboy getting a blow job on the bar. She wielded it like a club, waggling it at their mama. “Let go of me or I’ll bash your hologram head in,” Cassie warned. “Hey, hey,” Beau said, stepping between the bare-breasted holo-whores and putting his hand on Mama’s shoulder. “Ca—I mean, Ruby, is more than good enough for me, Mama. She’s the only one I want.” “Hear that?” Cassie waved the bottle again threateningly. “Beauregard, I know you’re a good boy and you think you can teach her something. But it’s no use. This chit is never going to make a decent whore.” “Well, of course not!” Cassie cried. “Let her go,” Beau said quietly. “I want her. And no one else.” He met the hologram’s eyes and stared at her steadily until Mama relented and loosened her grip on Cassie. She flew into Beau’s arms, and he scooped her up, turned around, and carried her out of the door of the saloon. “Let’s get out of here,” Leandros said, setting Eve on her feet and taking her hand. “I want you to myself.” “That makes two of us. I need to get away from these fucking holograms.” He couldn’t agree more. He pulled her toward the swinging double doors and lifted his arm to push them open. But he stopped dead when he saw there was a hulking shadow filling the doorway. A big, broad hologram, as tall as he was, with a gleaming silver star pinned to his chest. “Well, well, well,” drawled the hologram sheriff. “If it isn’t Leonard Bryson.” “So they tell me,” Leandros replied dubiously.
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The sheriff’s hand dropped to the handle of his gun, and Leandros stiffened. Shit. Shit. He hadn’t fired a gun since he’d shot BBs at beer cans with his brothers in fourth grade. He liked acting, but he didn’t think he could act outdrawing this sheriff dude. “I’m here to talk to you about that bank robbery in Helltown. In fact, I’ve got a warrant for your and your brother’s arrest.” The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “Unless, of course, you wanted to come to some other arrangement. Like for example you and me sharing that pretty little whore you’ve got there.” Leandros stepped backwards quickly. “Run,” he said to Eve, and they turned and sprinted for the staircase, the only obvious exit to the room. On the way past the piano he glimpsed his ma sitting on Eve’s pa’s lap, as the older man stuck one hand down the front of her dress and fondled her tits, still plunking out an off-key tune on the piano with the other. Leandros tugged Eve after him up the stairs. They ended in a dark, narrow hallway lined with doors. “I thought Lubda programmed the holograms to leave us alone,” Eve panted beside him. He heard the heavy footsteps of the sheriff behind them on the stairs. “Right now I wouldn’t count on programming, baby. We need to get out of here before that sheriff handcuffs us both to a bed.” He kicked the nearest door open. It was a bedroom. The brass bed was taken up by two naked whores and a cowboy. One whore was impaled on the man’s cock, while another writhed with her crotch grinding into the man’s face. The two women leaned forward, kissing and stroking each other’s breasts. “Excuse us,” said Leandros, shielding his eyes with one hand as he tugged Eve to the open window with the other. He folded himself through the window to the roof of the porch just below, and helped Eve to climb out too. “I’ve seen this in a film,” she said, her voice more than a little doubtful. “I think we’re supposed to jump down onto the back of a horse or something.”
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“I think I’d do my crotch considerable damage doing that,” Leandros said, creeping to the edge of the roof and looking over. He breathed a sigh of relief at seeing a big, softlooking haystack on the ground below them. He didn’t think haystacks were a common occurrence in towns even in the pseudoWild West, but he wasn’t inclined to argue right now. Maybe Lubda had come through for them after all. “Jump, baby,” he said, and felt Eve’s fingers tighten on his as they both launched off the roof together. The hay wasn’t quite as soft as it looked, but it cushioned their fall. “Come on,” he urged Eve, pulling her off the haystack and to her feet, aware that the sheriff might even now be climbing out the window after them. Unless he’d been distracted by the ménage a trois going on in the bedroom. That seemed more the sheriff’s style than jumping through windows. At least he hoped it was. The two of them sprinted across the scrubby grass to the closest building, a red-sided barn with its big door ajar. They slipped inside into the shadows, and closed the door after them. “Come up here,” Leandros said, guiding her to the ladder that led up to the hayloft. She began to climb and he went up after her. Now that they weren’t in imminent danger of being raped or arrested, he could concentrate on her legs and her perfect bottom in the skintight green satin dress she wore as she climbed up ahead of him. She got to the top and when she turned around to help him up into the loft, he got a great view of her pert breasts, pushed upwards by the dress and heaving with her quick breaths. When he joined her in the loft, though, he finally got a good look at her face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were snapping. She was still royally pissed off about something. “What’s wrong, baby?” He hoped it wasn’t him. She tugged off her broad-brimmed hat, threw it to one side, and flung herself back onto the cushion of hay.
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“Like it’s not enough of a violation to be abducted and have my sex life made into porn programs,” she said vehemently. “They don’t have to—have to—” Her dark eyes suddenly brimmed with tears, and she covered her face with her hands. “Hey,” Leandros said, concern making his voice rough. “Baby. Eve. Tell me.” He knelt beside her and gathered her into his arms. She buried her face against his chest. “It’s all entertainment to them. But when that hologram said he was my father—” She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. He could see her tears had fallen, streaking her face. “My real father’s dead. They’re all dead. I don’t have anyone. And those—things pretending they’re—” Eve let out a strangled sound of rage and sorrow and banged her fist against the straw. Leandros swallowed. Shit. He’d noticed Eve had never mentioned her family, but hell, he never mentioned his either, because there wasn’t much to tell. They were Greek, there were a lot of them, they were noisy, they lived in the suburbs, and they never minded their own fucking business. But he’d never thought about what it would be like if they weren’t there any more. “How old were you?” he asked softly. “Fifteen. There was a fire. I went to foster homes.” She punched the hay again, though not so hard this time. “That’s why I got engaged to Barry. I wanted something permanent. Somebody to be mine.” He stared at her, unable to think of what to say. He wanted to comfort her, to make her pain go away and the tears leave her eyes. But he wasn’t any good at that sort of thing. He’d never wanted to be. He wasn’t somebody permanent. He was a fucking lounge singer, for Christ’s sake. A wisp of hay had stuck in her hair. Carefully, he pulled it out and then smoothed the strand of hair he’d displaced back into her upswept style.
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After the noise of the saloon/orgy, the hayloft was silent. It felt like they were the only two people in a quiet, soft-smelling world. Although they weren’t alone, not really. They never had been. Every single encounter between them had been choreographed and accessorized by aliens and their technology. He shook his head slightly. What was the deal with him and his thoughts lately? Since when did he worry about this shit, about what was real and what wasn’t? Whether or not he could help somebody else? He’d always been happy with whatever and whoever life threw at him, been more than able to cope with it. But this emotion from her. And the emotions it brought out in him. He wasn’t sure how to cope with that. He leaned forward and kissed Eve. Her lips were soft and the best thing he’d ever felt. Every time she kissed him it was better than a cheering crowd at a sold-out gig, more precious than the best review any critic could ever write. Her mouth opened under his right away and she curled her arms around his neck and pulled him down to cover her with his body. Her tongue met his eagerly, and her hips arched up against him as she twined her legs around his. “Stop me from thinking, Leandros,” she murmured against his lips. That, he could do. He slid his hand up the length of her leg to the top of her stocking until he reached her bare thigh. No underwear included with this Shady Lady outfit. What a surprise. His fingertips brushed her pussy, heard her low moan of pleasure. “You make me forget,” she said. “You make me feel special. You’re so different from my normal life.” She reached up with both hands and pushed his hair back from his face. Then pressed small, gentle kisses to his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his eyebrows. Yeah, he was different, all right. She was always so tender. Even when they were mid-scenario, even when they were fucking like maniacs on top of a table or whatever, watched by four-eyed quilled gray-
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skinned aliens from the planet Odilia, she still touched him like he was the person at the center of her world. It was natural to her. And so strange for him. Since he’d realized he was falling in love with her they’d had sex over and over again. To the extent of being anomalous, apparently. And he still didn’t know how to deal with it. How to really act on his feelings, instead of just acting. Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe it wasn’t the way he was made. Eve’s hand slipped between their bodies and cupped against his erection. Her fingers moved, creating maddening friction through the denim of his jeans, and Leandros couldn’t wait any more. He rolled halfway off her and tore open his belt, unbuttoned his fly, took his cock in his hand. Then he was on top of her again and guiding his cock into her sex, sliding deep inside her heated embrace, driving all of these thoughts from his head. This was it. He understood this, couldn’t get enough of it. And this was what she wanted. He caught her sigh in his mouth and kissed her as he slowly moved in and out of her, pulling his cock nearly all the way out of her, only to sink back in. The hay perfumed the air around them, but not nearly as much as Eve herself, the soft smell of her hair, the warm scent of her skin, the exciting smell of her arousal. He pulled back from kissing her so he could look in her face as he made love to her. Though one of his hands cradled her hip, pulling her close to him, he lifted the other to her face. Her skin was silk under his fingers, and he could feel the traces of tears. “Do you feel better?” he murmured to her. “Yes,” she sighed. “Good,” he whispered. Though he wasn’t sure he could say the same for himself. He felt hungry, craving, in a way that had very little to do with his dick pumping so exquisitely in and out of her, her body curled like heaven around him. Like he wanted everything in the world for himself, and knew he could never have it. “Oh, yes, Leandros,” she moaned, and his name on her lips, her vagina pulsing around him in an orgasm that was almost as tender as her touches, made his hunger too sharp to bear.
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He reared back from her and actually pulled his cock all the way out of her body just so he could feel the bliss of penetrating her again. And again. And again. And this time of all times, when he wanted this to last forever, to prolong the time he could do this for her, even though it was building his longing into something unbearable—this time he felt his climax rushing toward him, way, way earlier than he wanted it to. He bit his lip and set his jaw. Stop, he told his cock. Be fucking patient. I need you to hold on for a little while here. But it wasn’t doing any good. He felt his balls tighten. He gripped Eve’s hip, clenched his teeth, curled his toes, tried everything he could do to stop the tide of ecstasy rushing through him, but he might as well’ve been pumped up with alien chemicals again because he shuddered and gasped and felt his hot sperm rising up and out of him, deep into Eve. A rough cry escaped his throat, and he lost his balance and collapsed on top of her. Her arms and legs held him, tight, as he gasped for breath and felt his heartbeat racing against her satin-clad breast. He felt her push his hair back again from his damp forehead, and kiss him between his eyebrows. For a moment he allowed himself to pull her tighter against him, curling her in a cocoon of himself and sweet smelling hay. “What…” He wanted to ask her what her family had been like. What it was like to have lost them. How she’d survived the lonely years without them. He wanted to understand her, protect her. But his words stopped. What did he know about consoling her? That wasn’t what this was really about. It wasn’t what the aliens wanted out of them, and it wasn’t what Eve wanted either. She’d wanted to stop talking, to stop feeling. She’d wanted him for sex. Hell, she had Barry to talk to, right? They must have spent a lot of time talking; Eve had made it clear they hadn’t spent all their time screwing. They’d gone to college together. They’d made plans for the future. Even if Eve wanted him more than Barry, they had way more in common than he and Eve ever would. And she hadn’t wanted Barry, in the end.
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Leandros’s longest-term plans involved moving his band from the Starlight Casino to the Cairo, where they’d get paid more money and had more chance of attracting record company reps. Still, he wanted to stay here in the hay with her and talk to her. Tell her about his hopes and dreams and what kind of music he loved and what it was like growing up in the noisiest Greek family in the world. Ask her opinions about films and find out if she knew how to cook and get her to tell him about the best places to go in Boston. Eve rose up slightly. “What were you going to say?” He sighed and sat up. Now that the first flush of their lust had passed, he could feel that the hay was scratchy. Eve sat up beside him, looking beautifully rumpled and haystrewn. “Nothing important,” he said. Eve studied him for a moment, then she said, “Thank you.” She took his hand in hers and kissed the palm. “You’re a good man, Leandros.” “Anytime, baby,” he said. The words sounded too cavalier even to his own ears. He knew he should be saying something else, but damned if he knew what it was. Unless it was to deny he was a good man, but he didn’t have the heart to do that just this minute. “Do you think the sheriff’s stopped looking for us?” she said. “Don’t know,” he answered, glad of the change of subject. “I’m a little bit worried about Cassie and Beau, actually. If the law got hold of them they’re probably finding out the bad meaning of ‘Jailhouse Rock’.” Her forehead furrowed. “Maybe we should go find them,” she said. He nodded and stood, helping her to her feet. She smoothed her dress and he picked pieces of hay from her hair, carefully threading them through the strands of her hair so he wouldn’t pull, his eyes fixed on what he was doing. “You—you were satisfied by that, weren’t you baby?” he asked, his words sounding awkward, even though he’d never had trouble talking about sex before. On the spaceship, or off it. But this time sex needed to say the things he couldn’t.
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She smiled warmly. “I’m always satisfied with you, Leandros,” she said, and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You’re the most amazing lover in the world.” He pulled her to him and held her close for a moment. Then he let her go. “Come on, let’s look for the others,” he said. They crept out of the barn and tiptoed toward the street. Leandros couldn’t see anybody looking for them from the windows of the saloon, but he kept his fingers close to his gun just in case. He needn’t have bothered. The street was deserted. He took Eve’s hand and kept her close to him as they wandered down its length. They looked into the general store, the feed store, the jailhouse. Everything was eerily silent and empty. “Where is everyone?” Eve wondered, as they went into the hotel lobby. Leandros rang the bell on the reception desk, but he knew nobody would come. They spent some time looking in each of the rooms, anyway. When they stepped back outside, a tumbleweed blew past them. Closely followed by a sheet of paper, which fluttered toward them and caught on the pointed toe of Leandros’s cowboy boot. He picked it up. The bold type on the top of it didn’t surprise him: WANTED, it said, FOR BANK ROBBERY: THE BRYSON BROTHERS. Below that were yellow drawings of both him and Beau in cowboy hats and scowls. But the rest of it surprised him. I am sorry, it said in bold Western type. I am aware that the holograms have disturbed you with their sexual behavior. I have reprogrammed the scenario as far as possible without being detected. It is, perhaps, best to avoid the saloon. Lubda. He showed the paper to Eve, who laughed and tucked it into her garter. Their search became less cautious after Lubda’s message. Still, the sun was sinking low in the west before they wandered down the hillside near the edge of town, following the sound of running water. The grass beneath their feet turned from dry yellow to lush green as they neared the creek. And the breeze was laced with noises that didn’t quite sound like birdsong.
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They reached an empty shanty surrounded by abandoned gold-panning equipment and as soon as they passed it Leandros knew exactly what the noises they’d been hearing were. A soft woolen blanket was spread out on the thick grass underneath a waving willow tree. And Beau lay on it, straddled by Cassie, both of them naked except for Cassie’s fishnet stockings. She had tossed her head back, crying out her orgasm to the spectacular orange sky; Beau’s hands were on her breasts, his body thrusting powerfully into hers. For the second time that day, Leandros stepped backwards. “Maybe we should wait over here,” he said, turning and heading for the creek bank on the other side of the shanty. “Yeah,” Eve agreed, giggling. “I guess they’re okay, huh?” More than okay, from the looks of it, Leandros thought as they found another willow tree and settled underneath it with his back against the trunk and her back against him. Leandros wrapped his arms around Eve and remembered the conversation he’d had with Beau soon after they’d arrived in this weird western world, about his own sexual performance. The other man had been comparing himself to Leandros, he knew. Well, it looked like Beau was doing a damn fine job proving he could be a sexual anomaly himself. It had been hours since they’d escaped the saloon. And presumably the aliens would’ve ended the scenario long before if they’d had nothing to watch except for him and Eve walking around. He buried her nose in Eve’s hair and inhaled her scent as he watched the willow tree sway lazily in the breeze, and the creek water flow by in the fading sunlight. She settled back against him and sighed in contentment. She was relaxed now; he wished he could be. But her words, her pain, still haunted him. The air carried the distant sounds of Cassie and Beau’s very vocal lovemaking. They obviously didn’t know, or care, that anybody could hear them. They were lost in each other. In their love. Leandros didn’t know what it was like to be someone who loved. He’d never done it, and he wasn’t sure he could ever drop everything like Cassie and
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Beau did, forget every fear and every doubt enough to satisfy the huge longing inside him, enough to give Eve all she needed. Even from his short glimpse of the other couple, he could tell that every movement they made was unselfconscious. Genuine. He tightened his arms around Eve. Genuine. Something else he didn’t know anything about. But he did know how to be an amazing lover. Suddenly, fiercely, he buried his face in her neck. He caught her warm, delicate skin between his teeth and kissed her, again and again, from her earlobe to her shoulder, devouring every inch of her bare skin he could reach. He raised his hands to her breasts, weighed their soft perfection in his palms and reveled in her sharp intake of breath, her nipples pebbling with desire. “Come on, baby,” he muttered roughly into Eve’s ear, feeling her skin raise into goose bumps underneath his searching hands. “Let’s get naked. We shouldn’t be missing this opportunity to make love out in nature. And I can think of about a million things I want to do with you.” She shuddered and he pushed her back into the soft grass, feeling her body curve against his with promise. She was his in every way that he could make her so with his hands and his mouth and his body and his cock. That was going to have to be enough.
Cassie cried out, pressing down on Beau’s length, taking him fully into her tight heat as her orgasm undulated through her. Beau bucked up, shouting out his own release. She collapsed onto his chest, and Beau held her tight to him. Both of them panted, exhausted by the intensity of their lovemaking. Finally, Beau breathed, “Damn, woman.” His innocent little Cassie had been on fire. He felt her smile against his chest.
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“And my mama said you wouldn’t make a good whore.” She rose up, giving him an indignant glare. She swatted him on the shoulder. He grinned and then rolled her over so she was pinned beneath him. She laughed, the sound causing pleasure to vibrate through him. “I didn’t like that woman,” Cassie said adamantly. “You didn’t like my dear sweet mama?” “Not one bit,” she stated with a smile. She lifted her head to kiss him. When she dropped her head back to the grass, her smile was gone. “She didn’t think I was good enough for you.” She toyed with a lock of his hair, rubbing it between her fingertips. “I wonder…” Beau frowned, confused by her serious expression. “You wonder what?” She shook her head, focusing on her fingers touching his hair. “I just—I wonder if your mother would like me. Your real mom.” Beau stared at her for a moment, then rolled onto the grass beside her. The sun was setting, or rather the fake sun was setting. The sky glowed in hues of pink and orange. The clouds, the colors looked real, like the hundreds of sunsets that he’d watched while growing up. Lying there on the back porch of his parents’ ancient farmhouse, imaging he was somewhere else. Somewhere better. And when he was buried deep inside Cassie, he almost believed he’d gotten there. To that place. But it was just a fantasy. A dream. No different than those moments on his parents’ porch. Cassie shifted beside him, to face him. Her small hand reached out to touch his chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn—” Beau caught the fingers that touched him, caressing their lengths with his thumb, studying how delicate and smooth they were. Not the calloused hands of someone who had lived a hard life that had hardened her inside, too. Would his mother like Cassie? Maybe. More than likely his mother would find Cassie too—different. Too outside her way of life. But he couldn’t tell her that. Instead he forced a smile and said, “My mother would love you.”
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The fib didn’t matter; Cassie would never meet any of his family. Cassie’s green eyes roamed his face and he had the feeling she didn’t believe him. She sat up. He sat up too, and pressed kisses to her shoulder, her neck, down her spine. At first, her posture remained rigid, but gradually she sank back against him. He caught her waist, pulling her into his lap. He touched her face, tracing the curve her cheek, the point of her small chin. The softness of her lips. He kissed her gently, tenderly. Worshipping her with his mouth, wanting to take away the uncertainty and hurt in her eyes. He wanted to adore her enough to make up for his whole family. She clung to him, opening her lips to him. Her hands framed his face, her kiss so sweet, so infinitely sexy. A tremble ran through his body. How could she worry about his family’s acceptance when she was so perfect? And he was so not. “Beau,” she murmured against his lips. “I love how you kiss.” He groaned, his kiss deepening. “I love how you touch me.” He moaned, cupping one of her breasts. He loved how she touched him too. Damn. His hand slid slowly lower, parting the damp curls of her pussy. She gasped as he touched a fingertip to her clit, stroking it very lightly, very gently. One of her hands left his face to tangle in his hair. Then she was stroking his shoulder, his chest. She shifted her bare hip rubbing against him. She nipped his shoulder, soothing the small bite with her hot, little tongue. She wriggled more, pressing searing kisses to his collarbone. All the while making her little whimpering noises that drove him mad and made him harden even more. “I need you,” she whispered against his ear, biting his lobe. “Please fuck me.” All control disappeared as he positioned her on the grass and levered over her, his skin burning where they touched. Their earlier lovemaking had been frenzied, passionate, repeated.
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This time as he thrust deep into her, he managed to keep his motions steady, smooth. This was about making her feel as special as he saw her. Slowly he pulled out to the tip only to drive into her to the hilt, over and over, slow and steady like the creek near them. As her orgasm hit her, she arched up, her breasts thrusting upward, her skin pink and orange in the waning light. More perfect than any of his best sunset fantasies.
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Chapter Fifteen
It was dark. Beau looked up, and what he saw was so familiar that he gasped. He’d seen the bottom of a lot of Mustangs in his time, and this one looked completely real. A ’72, he’d guess. Pretty well looked after. He’d serviced one very much like this about a month ago. Was he back home? Terror rushed through his veins like ice water. They’d talked to Lubda after the Wild West thing, and Lubda hadn’t said they were going home, but Lubda was an alien. And who knew what fucked-up way aliens thought. Maybe they’d got sick of this porn stuff and just transported them all back to Earth. Put him right back in Sawyer’s Cross, where he belonged. And if he was back in Sawyer’s Cross, he’d never see Cassie again. “You can’t friggin’ do this to me,” he muttered, and began to push himself out from underneath the Mustang, rolling the creeper along the concrete floor. Then he paused, steadying himself with a grip on the Mustang’s exhaust pipe. The creeper he always used had squeaky wheels. It drove Uncle Merle crazy. He kept on telling Beau to “put WD40 on them wheels” and Beau never did because Beau sort of liked to drive Uncle Merle crazy. It paid him back for all the money he’d won off Beau in after-work poker games. And, though he didn’t think of it often, it was the slightest revenge for the fact that Beau was still working in Merle’s garage, six years after he’d sworn to himself it was only a temporary job. He shifted himself on the creeper. Yup, it felt different from normal, too. It had a cushion on it.
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Beau snorted. Yeah, like Uncle Merle would ever get a cushion for a creeper. Merle wasn’t a great one for comfort. Whereas this creeper felt comfortable enough… …to have sex on. Beau smiled as relief hit him nearly as hard as the terror had done. This was just another one of the aliens’ weird-ass porn scenarios. Scarily realistic, but only a hologram. Well. It wasn’t the most exotic scenario Cassie and he had been in—it didn’t really compare to the 80’s Dallas set or the whole caveman deal—but at least his acting would be believable. And he’d always wanted to screw a beautiful woman on the hood of a ’72 Mustang. He wondered how Cassie would be dressed up. A cute little mechanic? A race car driver? A topless model, of the type usually featured in the calendars on garage walls? A shorts-and-halter-top wearing, gum-chewing, sweet sexy southern girl, as fast and as reckless as the Mustang she drove? His dick had begun to harden already. With a practiced move, he began to push the creeper he was lying on out from underneath the car again. “That’s a pretty sight,” he heard Cassie saying, her voice teasing and sexy, and for the hundredth time he reflected with pride and pleasure on how she’d grown in confidence since the first time they’d met. Then he rolled the creeper all the way out from underneath the car and all he could reflect on was the view of Cassie’s legs, bare to the thigh. The very high heels she wore and his prone position on the creeper made her legs look miles long. “Mmm, babe, you look good enough to eat. You’re—” His eyes traveled further up her body, to see she wore a tight but tailored skirt with a matching jacket, so stylish and perfectly fitted to her body that it had to be an expensive designer ensemble. A white silk blouse clung to her full breasts. A leather handbag hung from her shoulder, and she wore perfect makeup and tasteful gold jewelry. For the first time since he’d met her she looked like a Cassandra. “—my rich customer,” he finished his sentence, his stomach sinking.
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There went all his relief. This scenario was far too close to reality for comfort. Particularly since it was the reality he’d been trying his best to forget. “And you are the most gorgeous mechanic I have ever seen,” Cassie said, her gaze traveling up and down his body as he lay in front of her. “Is this what you usually wear to work?” Beau looked down at himself. He didn’t have a shirt on and his chest was smeared artistically with motor oil. He was wearing cutoff jeans, skin-tight and suspiciously free of grease. “I try to wear something a little more protective than this,” he said. “Well, it might not be practical, but it certainly is appealing.” She walked closer to him and with a single seductive move, stepped over his body with one leg so she was standing over him. Beau could look right up the length of her smooth legs, underneath her skirt. Her ivory panties were so tiny and so tight that he could see the slight bulge of her pussy lips, and a trace of black hair. He swallowed as he felt his cock grow. “Mr. Bryson,” she said, in a breathy voice, “I wonder if you would check my fluids.” This wasn’t his ideal scenario, but that, from Cassie’s lips, was an invitation he couldn’t refuse. “Sure thing, Miss Elliot.” He reached out and curled his hands around her ankles. “Would you like me to use my dipstick? Or something else?” Cassie giggled, then gasped as he stroked slowly up her calves. “You’re the professional,” she breathed. “I trust your judgment.” “Well, if that’s the case.” He scooted out from between her legs, taking one last long lingering look up her skirt, and rose to his feet. He saw her look up and down his body again. He knew that his cock was straining against the tight denim of his shorts; it jerked as she gave it a hungry stare. He caught her hips in his hands and felt down over her ass, cupping the cheeks in his hands as he looked into her eyes. Man, he loved to see the depth of her desire, how the emerald green of her eyes got cloudy. How her breath sped up when he held her, how she
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responded to every touch of his as if it were the most thrilling thing that had ever happened to her. He was really going to miss that. He shook his head to drive the thought away. “What?” Cassie asked. Her beautiful eyes narrowed in concern. “Beau, what’s the matter?” He shook his head again, this time making sure he was smiling. “Nothing, darlin’. I just can’t believe how sexy you are.” To prove his words, he let his hand travel down the curve of her backside and underneath the hem of her skirt. Her tiny panties were silk, and she groaned and wriggled delightfully when he brushed his fingertips against the sodden crotch. “I never get enough of you,” she whispered, and brought her mouth up to his to kiss. No. He never got enough of her, either. He didn’t think he ever could. He devoured her mouth, reveling in her sweetness, as he stroked her through the silk, so fine he could feel every contour of her flesh. The nub of her engorged clit was firm against his finger and she shuddered as soon as he touched it. She was so responsive. And all these days, all this lovemaking on this spaceship had taught him exactly what Cassie liked, exactly how he could touch her to bring her to completion. Quickly, slowly, teasingly, intensely, any one of a million ways that the two of them could find pleasure together. This time he let his hand slip inside her panties so his fingers could sample the wetness and heat of her pussy as his mouth sampled the wetness and heat of her kiss. He slid a finger into her tightness and his thumb circled her clit. “Oh God, Beau,” she moaned into his mouth as he began to fuck her slowly with his finger and tease her clit. The muscles of her vagina tightened around him and he imagined them doing the same thing to his cock, which felt like it was going to burst through these damn shorts any minute. Her pliant body melted against his; he could feel her pebbled nipples through her silk blouse on his bare chest. Her kiss became more urgent, her teeth nipping at his lips and
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her tongue pushing against his. Her pussy was getting even wetter with every stroke of his hand, and her nails dug into the skin of his back as she held on to him. Every orgasm she had with him was a gift she gave to him. A time when she couldn’t think of anything but him, a time when all the rest of the world dissolved away. She was getting closer now. Beau stepped up his caresses a notch. He reveled in the scent of her: the light perspiration on her skin as she flushed hot with desire, the musky aroma of her arousal, and a flowery, beautiful smell that was part of her. This woman filled up his senses like nobody else he had ever met. When she came, he wanted to feel every inch of her. Beau tightened his grip on her hip and pulled her still closer to him. Cassie whimpered, still kissing him, and arched even further against his body. Her hips were rocking with his movements as he thrust his finger in and out of her, strumming her clitoris rapidly with his thumb. He felt her body tense, felt her hold her breath. She was about to come. He slowed his hand, crooked his finger inside her so it rubbed against her G-spot. “Beau,” she gasped, and he felt pride and pleasure and desire swell inside him as he gave a last swirling stroke to her, inside and out. She clenched her pussy around him, tightened her arms around him, dug her fingernails into him, jerked her hips against him. His cock leapt in response when she let out a long, inarticulate cry. The best sound he’d ever heard. It just knocked everything else down into the dirt. He held her tight as she rode through the spasms and out the other side until she was limp and satisfied in his arms. And then she wove her hands through his hair and smiled up at him. And damned if her smile wasn’t a thousand times better than her orgasm. “You really are good with your hands,” she breathed. “I’m good with other things, too.” “I know.” Her smile turned into a grin, and she stepped back from him. Once again she looked up and down his body. “I’m glad you wear more than that when you’re working.”
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“Why?” he asked, with an answering grin. He couldn’t help it; she looked so wanton and so sweet, all at once. “Are you concerned I might catch something in a fan belt?” She laughed. “Well, that would be a loss, but really it’s purely selfish. I hate to think that any woman could come in for an oil change or whatever and be able to look at your beautiful body.” She reached forward and trailed a tempting finger down the middle of his torso, between his nipples, following the line of hair down to the waistband of the cutoffs. “Yup. That’s it. I always wondered why I bothered with the coveralls. Now I know it’s to keep the chicks at bay.” The joke didn’t quite work as well as he wanted it to. For one thing, he’d never had trouble attracting women, coveralls or not. If he’d wanted a date or something a little more fundamental, he could always find a willing partner. The problem was, none of them had been Cassie. Beau couldn’t help but glance around the fake garage. It was close enough to the real thing to remind him of how he’d lived the past six years of his life. Getting the job done, shooting the shit with his friends and family, hanging out with his dog, fooling around with girls just to scratch an itch, reading books on his own. Suspecting there was something more to life, but never knowing exactly what it was. He’d never known what the more was, until he met Cassie. As if she could read his mind, she tilted her head and looked around the garage herself. “Is this like where you work?” she asked. “It’s cleaner.” He shrugged. “But—” she gestured around the room, “—you know how to use all these tools and things? How to put these cars back together?” She pointed at a Chevy whose engine had been winched out. “Uh huh.” “Wow.” Her eyes filled with admiration, and he had to chuckle. His laugh had just a hint of bitterness in it.
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“It’s not all that impressive. I’ve been fixing things since I was about three years old. It runs in the family.” Course, what his father was best at was fixing bets, and what his brothers were best at was fixing things so they had to work as little as possible. His Uncle Merle had given him the best option he had to make an honest living, set aside some money. Though God knew what he was setting it aside for, these days. Again, Cassie narrowed her eyes in concern, seemingly for what he wasn’t saying. “You should be proud of yourself,” she said. “I don’t have any talent like that. I certainly couldn’t fix anything.” He pulled her close to him and kissed her on the forehead. “You’ve got lots of other talents, darlin’.” She giggled. “Yeah, but I can’t use those talents in public. I mean, in human public. I don’t seem to have any trouble being a featured attraction for aliens.” She sobered. “I think it would be nice to know you’re good at something that is useful to people. I’ve never felt that way.” “Well, you’ve never needed to. You could be useful if you got the chance.” He caught her hands and looked at her palms. Again he noted that she didn’t have a single callous or a single scar. Unlike his hands. He ran his thumbs over the smooth, soft skin. She sighed. “Maybe I could be. But you know what you’re good at. Did you always want to be a mechanic?” Beau dropped her hands. Yup. She could see what everybody else could see: that he was perfectly suited for his life in Uncle Merle’s garage in Sawyer’s Cross. “Something like that,” he said, pushing the creeper back underneath the car with his foot. “When did you first know?” “I learned how on an old Camaro my dad had up on blocks in the front yard. I guess it was sort of a foregone conclusion after that.” “Did you have to take classes or anything?”
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He looked at her sharply, and then felt ashamed of himself for suspecting her of mocking him. Cassie wasn’t like that. She was being her wonderful, caring, curious self. “No. I took college prep courses in high school. I learned about engines from fooling around with them. Speaking of which—” He caught Cassie around her waist and pulled her tight to him again. His body, which had been feeling a little neglected while his mind had been thinking about his dead-end job, perked up at the contact of her soft flesh. “We’ve got some aliens watching us who will start to suspect something if they don’t see us fucking like pheromone-crazed bunnies.” Not to mention the fact that he’d just as soon stop talking about his life. They’d avoided it since she’d asked about his mother and he’d just as soon keep it that way. “Oh, yes,” Cassie purred. She pushed against him, gently guiding him to walk backwards until his butt nudged the side of the Mustang. “Fooling around.” She put her little hands on his bare chest and trailed them over his skin. The feeling of her touching him was incredible. She smoothed her hands over the muscles of his shoulders, down the skin of his chest to tease his nipples. Then she ran her hands down his sides, sending a wave of need through him. “I want to know more about your normal life,” she told him. Her fingers playing around the waistband of his shorts made him draw in a shuddery breath. “You don’t really.” “Yes I do.” Her fingers continued their leisurely path. “Like I don’t know anything about your friends except for that they don’t like To Kill a Mockingbird. And all I know about your family is that your brother won’t let your dog starve. And your mother would—love me.” She obviously still didn’t quite buy that little lie. But she continued, “I don’t even know if…” Her eyes met his, and her teasing tone was suddenly gone. “You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” He shook his head vehemently. “No.”
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She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Oh, God, I’m so glad. For a minute there I was scared that you never talked about your real life because you had somebody waiting at home for you.” He couldn’t help but smile at the relief in her voice. Even though he knew it really didn’t make any difference, in the end. “Babe, the only one that’s waiting at home for me is my dog. And we don’t have that kind of relationship.” “Well, I’m even more glad to hear that.” She pressed her palms to his lower belly, and then slipped her hands around to caress the small of his back. “So tell me about your dog. I think I would like him.” “You would. He’s a good dog.” “Are you an animal fan in general, or is it just Boo?” “I like animals. I wanted—” He stopped himself. There wasn’t much point in talking about the dreams he used to have. Like saving for college and learning how to be a vet. Like moving away from Sawyer’s Cross. He’d pretty much proven to himself that they weren’t ever going to come true. “What? What did you want, Beau?” He shook his head. “Nothing.” He curled his hands around her waist and pulled her closer to him, feeling her bare legs brushing against his. “Except I think you’re wearing too many clothes.” A slow smile spread across Cassie’s face. “I can take care of that,” she said, and stepped back. Her hands went to the top button of her silk blouse and leisurely unfastened it. “So how about cars?” she asked. “What’s your favorite car?” “Well,” he said, letting a grin creep across his own face, “I’ve always had a thing for ’72 Mustangs.” “Is that what this car is?” She nodded toward the Mustang, her fingers moving down to the second button. “It surely is.”
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“And what thing have you always had for them?” She’d changed her mind, and instead of undoing her blouse, was slowly, sensuously, wriggling out of her jacket. The movement was doing wonderful things with the contours of her breasts. “I’ve always wanted to see a sexy naked woman sprawled over one,” he said. “More specifically, you.” “Hmm.” She considered. “I might be able to do that.” She let the jacket slide down her arms, and then drop on the concrete floor. “Even more specifically, I wanted to see a sexy naked woman sprawled over one while I fucked her.” “Would that woman be me too?” Beau nodded, “Oh yeah.” “Hmm,” she said again. “I might be able to do that, too.” Her fingers went back to her blouse and toyed with the next button. Her deliberate movements were driving him crazy. He’d seen her naked, over and over again, and yet his mouth was watering with anticipation of seeing her again. She unfastened the button. Then, slowly, the next. He could see the cleavage between her breasts, the lacy silk top of her bra. These aliens were damn good at underwear. Or maybe his tastes were predictable. Then again, who would have predicted his taste for Cassie in a fur bikini? Or 80’s shoulder pads? It wasn’t the clothes. It was her. Over and over again. She always satisfied him, but he always wanted more. She undid another button. “I don’t quite understand this thing men have for cars,” she said. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her hands. “Well, they’re fast,” he said, much more interested in what she was doing than what he was saying, “and powerful. Like good sex.” She unfastened the last button and held the sides of her shirt just slightly open. “Good sex can be slow, too. And nobody likes a slow car.”
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“Maybe the analogy doesn’t quite work,” he agreed. “I think it’s on my mind because of what you’re doing right now.” “I’ve never been very interested in cars,” Cassie said. “But I never really thought about them as sexy before.” “You will after this,” he promised. “Good. I want to like what you like.” She opened her blouse, treating him to a view of her full breasts in the ivory bra, and let the clothing slip to the floor. Her hand went to the zipper of her skirt. “I think we could explore all kinds of car sex. Like driving somewhere isolated and having sex in the back seat.” “Or the front seat,” Beau added. His dick felt like it was burning a hole in his cutoffs and his thought processes had been reduced to a single repeated sentence. Take off the skirt so I can lift you onto the hood of this Mustang and fuck you till you scream. “Or both.” She finally undid the zipper. The little shimmy she did to work her skirt down her legs made him clench his hands and bite his lip. He wanted to grab her, but he wanted this seductive strip tease to go on for longer, too. “My grandfather had a Rolls Royce once. It had the most gorgeous leather seats. Those would be great to have sex on.” Her words hit him like a bucketful of cold water. A fucking Rolls. She thought of cars, and she thought about a fucking Rolls. She wasn’t even trying to be impressive—she thought it was totally normal for people to drive Rolls Royces and think about having sex on the leather upholstery. He’d seen one once. The driver had told him not to leave dirty fingerprints on the paintwork when he checked the tires. Like he needed another reminder that while they’d both been abducted from Earth, they might as well be from different planets. Beau raked his hand through his hair and took a step away from the car and away from Cassie. “Listen, Cassie, I think we need—” But he never got to finish his sentence, to tell her they needed to stop fooling themselves and face reality, before he got so attached to her that he made himself
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miserable for life, because right at that moment she reached behind herself, unfastened her bra, and let it drop to the floor with the rest of her clothes. And there she stood. Cassie. The woman of his dreams, the only woman he’d ever wanted with this overwhelming need, this desire that shattered him and made him feel whole all at the same time. The woman whose every smile, every laugh, every breath was quickly becoming more important than his own. She stood there wearing nothing but a slip of silk underwear and a pair of high heels. Her beautiful breasts jutted out, the pink nipples begging for his touch, his mouth. Her legs long and shapely, her hips exactly the right shape for his hands. And her eyes, green as an Alabama springtime. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any dream he’d ever had, and the only way he was ever going to have her was in some alien porn ship, on the hood of a hologram. And he was a desperate man, because he’d take the hologram, the illusion that there could really be a relationship between them. He needed it. Beau unbuttoned his cutoffs and pulled them down his legs. His dick sprang out from his body, showing her the power of his desire for her. He saw her eyes widen, her tongue creep out to moisten her lips, and he nearly groaned. And then Cassie reached out and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, and sank down onto her knees in front of him, and he did groan. He watched, fascinated, as she opened her mouth and touched the head of his dick with her pink tongue. His cock jerked in response and pleasure shot through his body. She ran the flat of her tongue down the side of his shaft and then back up. Down again, and then back up, pausing for little nibbles of her lips, every one of which brought another groan from him. When she had made every inch of his cock wet and glistening, she sat back a little on her heels and admired her work. She glanced up to meet his eyes. “I think you’re amazing, Beau.” He wanted to deny it, to tell her he was just an ordinary guy, a dime a dozen, and she didn’t know it yet because she was stuck in a spaceship with him. But then she took his
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cock into her mouth, as deep as she could, and wrapped her hand around the length that she couldn’t swallow. And she sucked. He moaned. Okay, maybe he wasn’t amazing, but this was. Cassie ran her tongue around the sensitive head of his shaft, and then he saw her cheeks hollow as she sucked him. He let his hands rest on her head, feeling the glossy strands of dark hair between his fingers, and watched the hard length of his dick sliding between her soft pink lips. She took him deeper, hotter, tightened her grip on his shaft and curled the fingers of her other hand around his balls, and he let out a low shout of pleasure. He had to brace himself on the side of the Mustang with one of his hands to stop from falling over backwards. Cassie withdrew, her lips making a soft popping sound as he slipped out of the suction of her mouth. She smiled, wicked and pleased with herself, and the sight was just as sexy as watching her suck his dick. “God, I love what you do to me,” he whispered, not trusting his voice not to shake if he spoke any louder. “I love what you’ve let me become,” she answered. She rose up a little bit and pushed his hips gently so that he was leaning back against the car. And then she crouched before him. The position put her breasts at his crotch level. Beau caught his breath as he saw her take her breasts in her own hands, pressing the lush globes together. He reached down toward her, wanting to replace his hands with hers, but then she leaned forward and positioned herself so that his dick rested in the soft valley between her gorgeous tits. “Holy fuck,” he breathed as she pressed her breasts together, surrounding him with her warmth and softness. “I never would have been able to do something like this, if not for you,” Cassie said. She moved her body, moved her hands, so that he slid between her breasts. The moisture from her mouth and tongue made his skin slick, so he slid easily. He watched the purple
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head of his cock against the creamy skin of her tits, saw how her fingers touched her rosy, erect nipples, and he had to hold his breath to keep from spurting come all over her. “You’ve changed me, Beau,” Cassie said. Her movements and her body were whipping him up into a frenzy of lust, but it was her eyes and her words that made him swallow, hard. “You believe in me,” she continued, all the time fucking him with her tits. “You make me see I shouldn’t be scared of doing what I want. Of reaching out and taking it. You’ve changed my whole life.” With an inarticulate cry, Beau took Cassie by her shoulders and pulled her up so he could crush her against his body. He needed her. Now. He had to possess her in the only way he could, in the way that only he had, before he exploded with frustration and passion and all the emotions he couldn’t express. He kissed her hungrily as he lifted her up and carried her to the front of the car. He set her down on the hood and with a single sharp tug he ripped away her panties, the only boundary between their bodies. Beau positioned her on the edge of the hood, so her legs were spread and he could see her beautiful pussy, her breasts heaving with her desire, her face looking up at him. She wrapped her legs around his hips. With a sharp groan, the sound of a desperate man, he thrust his hot, hard cock deep into her. He leaned forward, bracing his arms against the Mustang, and kissed her. This was where he belonged. Where she belonged. In a fair world where nothing mattered but emotion and desire and dreams, they would be together forever. His need was too fierce for him to be gentle or slow. He drove into her, hard and fast, plundering her mouth with his kisses, and he felt her taking all of him. Giving back everything he gave her. He felt the car rocking under his almost violent thrusts, felt her nails digging into the skin of his back. “Oh God yes, Beau,” she gasped into his mouth, and then she stiffened and arched under him and he felt her contract around him with her orgasm.
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The feeling of her coming made him fuck her even harder, even faster. From the first moment he’d seen her he’d wanted her. But his desire the first time he’d had sex with her was nothing compared to what he felt now. His emotions had grown and grown, too big to keep hold of, too strong to control. Beau hammered into Cassie, claiming her with his body. Like if he fucked her hard enough and long enough, he could change the world. “Beau!” she cried out, throwing her head back, moving her hands down to clutch at his ass and pull him still deeper. To help him with his frenzied, desperate, thrilling movements. He knew he could make her come again, and he craved it. He wanted to feel her orgasming as he pumped his sperm into her. He wanted for both of them to lose their minds together. A perfect moment that nobody and nothing could take away. Beau balanced himself on one arm and with the other hand, reached between their heaving bodies to grasp her breast, pinch and pluck one nipple and then the other. Her pussy muscles clenched around him. He knew that his body was hitting her clit with every thrust, but he wanted her to feel more. He slipped his hand down to circle her clit and stroke it. Her pussy was slick with her juices, her clit was engorged, and she let out a strangled cry when he touched her there. “Come for me, darlin’,” he muttered roughly, and it was so much less than he wanted to say, but it was all he trusted himself with. “Yes,” she cried, and he felt her tense again, heard her catch her breath. Then she was thrashing beneath him on the Mustang, in the grip of an orgasm even stronger than her last one. He looked into her face. Her mouth was open, her cheeks flushed, her eyes heavylidded and so, so beautiful. The sight of her propelled him forward, over the edge into his own climax. His balls jerked, his hips thrust hard and short, and he felt himself explode into her. Pumping his hot seed deep into her womb.
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“Cass,” he murmured, all his strength gone. He gathered her to him, held her close to his body, breathing in her scent and feeling every precious beat of her heart. “Beau.” Cassie’s hands stroked up his body, over his back, through his hair. He closed his eyes in bliss, until he felt her taking his face in her hands and holding it close to her own. He opened his eyes to see hers gazing straight into them. She smiled, and his heart stuttered. Tenderly, softly, she traced his lips with her thumb. Stroked her fingers over his skin as if he were worth more than all the money in the world. “Beau,” she said, “I love you.” Beau froze, air caught in his lungs. His heart thumped hard enough to hurt. “What?” he choked. She smiled. Pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and tightened her legs around his hips. “I love you,” she said. Oh, dammit. His heart thumped again, feeling so big it might self-destruct. She loved him. He could see the truth of it shining out of her eyes, could feel the truth of it in every cell of his body. And he loved her too. More than life. He closed his eyes and hugged her to him as close as he could. For a single, heavenly moment, he allowed himself to think about what it would be like to love Cassie and have her love him back. But then reality reasserted itself. She really did love him, right at this minute. She believed she owed him for how she’d changed. If he told her how he felt, she’d leave her life, leave everything she had behind, and join him in Alabama. She was that sweet, that wonderful, that trusting. And what could he give her? A one-bedroom apartment? A pickup truck? A hound dog and a television and hours and hours to waste?
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All he could give her was a life even smaller than the one she’d leave behind. Beau took one last deep breath of Cassie. Then gently, he disengaged himself from her, carefully unwrapping her legs from his hips and making sure she was safely perched on the hood of the Mustang before he stepped away. Avoiding her eyes, he bent down and picked up her clothes from where she’d dropped them. The clothes that looked tailor-made for her body and for her social position. He tried not to, but he couldn’t help but glance at her face as he held out her clothes to her. She was biting her lip, her big eyes full of pain. They stabbed him. “Cassie, I—” He had to look away from her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But this is never going to work out.” “Beau?” The word was a gasp, so anguished that he clenched his teeth, fisted his hands with the effort not to touch her and comfort her. “All of this.” He gestured around without looking at her. “You and me together. It could never happen in real life. It’s an illusion.” As if the aliens agreed, the room dissolved around them.
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Chapter Sixteen
Cassie held her clothes up in front of her, blinking and trying to make sense of the world. She stood in the common room, next to the big red couch where Leandros and Eve sat together. Leandros was holding a cup of coffee and Eve had her legs casually draped over his lap. He was singing softly to her in his smooth, sultry voice, and she was smiling. Cassie had interrupted them by suddenly appearing, though the looks they gave her were amused, not annoyed. But the easy intimacy in their pose, the way they both looked so relaxed and happy, was such a contrast to her feelings that a streak of jealousy ran through her. This is never going to work out. Beau’s voice echoed in her head. Her eyes searched him out. He stood on the other end of the couch, as gloriously naked as he’d been in the garage scenario. And with that same distant, cold expression on his face. An expression she’d never seen there before. “Beau,” she said, but he didn’t look at her. Instead, he turned his back and walked across the room to their door. He didn’t close it behind him when he went through it, but he might as well have slammed it in her face. His actions only confirmed what he’d said to her. Cassie closed her eyes and tried to figure out how to rewind time. Back to five minutes ago when she’d felt more emotion than she’d ever experienced in her life. When she and Beau had been making such wild passionate love that she’d been certain that he felt the same as she did. When she’d been so overwhelmed by tenderness and respect and desire and love for him that she’d told him how she felt. And expected him to say the same thing. 230
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My God, how could she have been such a stupid, naïve fool? She knew so little about the world and what people were like that she’d interpreted his desire and his friendship as true love. But he didn’t feel anything like she felt. She opened her eyes and gazed across the room at the open door he’d just disappeared through. It wouldn’t do her any good to go after him. He didn’t love her. “So, did you two crazy kids have a good time?” Leandros asked, stretching one arm along the back of the couch, around Eve’s shoulders. Cassie began pulling on her clothes. Normally she’d be embarrassed to be getting dressed in front of Leandros and Eve. But it seemed trivial now. Eve straightened up. “Cassie? Is something wrong?” Cassie felt a burning in her eyes but she swallowed hard, willing the tears back. She’d cried enough since being on this spaceship. She’d been weak and silly, and she wasn’t going to be that way any more. “Cassie.” Eve got up from the couch and came to stand next to her, putting her hand on her shoulder. “What’s going on?” Cassie saw the concern in Eve’s brown eyes, and she could tell that Leandros had leaned forward on the couch, watching them. She wanted to tell them how she felt. They were her friends. Maybe the only friends she had, now that her feelings about Beau had been turned upside down. But the mere thought of opening her mouth and saying what had just happened made her feel sick and panicked. It was too new, too fresh, too horrible. Cassie shook her head and smiled at Eve. “I’m fine,” she said, hearing her own voice as if it were a million miles away. She feigned a yawn. “Just tired. I think I could use some coffee too.” Leandros relaxed into the couch. “No problem, Cass, these aliens are even quicker than Starbucks.” “What is this Starbucks of which you speak?”
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Cassie jumped at the sudden voice, and so did Eve and Leandros. The alien they could recognize now as Lubda stood in front of them, having appeared as abruptly as everything did in this place. Leandros shrugged. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll be opening up a branch on Odilia soon. What’s up, Lubda?” The alien bobbed its eyestalks up and down. “I have come to tell you that the preparations for your escape are nearly complete.” Eve clapped her hands. “Really? We can go back home soon?” Cassie’s stomach sank. She’d been waiting to hear those words for a long time, it seemed. But now, all she could think of was what Beau had said. How they would never be able to be together in the real world. As if he’d read her mind, Beau’s voice came from the doorway of their room. “So it’s all over.” He’d put on his jeans and T-shirt and tied back his hair, and he looked just as beautiful as when he’d been naked. His eyes were fixed on Lubda, and never even glanced in her direction. Another wave of pain broke over her. “Yes,” the alien said. “I have designed holograms according to the parameters of your behavior to take your place in the scenarios so that Nisom and Andyr will not perceive your absences for some time.” It touched the place where its chin might be with one appendage. “In truth, these holograms themselves should make Nisom happy. They are much higher-performance than the human sex holograms we had been able to program before this experiment.” “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Leandros said. “Hey, you had a helping hand,” Eve reminded him, grinning. “And mouth, and—” “I have programmed in the coordinates to transport you back to Earth,” Lubda continued. “It only remains to choose the most opportune moment.” “Where will we be transported to?” Beau asked. He was speaking quietly, and Cassie couldn’t read what emotion, if any, was in his voice.
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“The computer calculations are such that you will need to be replaced in the same location from which you were taken.” “Back to Alabama.” He said it even more quietly than before. “Fine.” “So when’s the opportune moment?” Eve asked. Lubda made a clicking sound. “You and Leandros are scheduled for another scenario next. Your performance should give me plenty of time to implement the final calibrations to the hologram replacement humans and to set the transporter. When your scenario is complete, I will initiate the transporter sequence. Nisom and Andyr are never interested in watching your resting time so we should have ample opportunity.” Eve and Leandros looked at each other, and there was a pause. “So it’s our last scenario,” Eve said slowly. “We’d better make it good, baby.” Eve turned suddenly to Lubda. “Will we be able to take anything back with us to Earth?” “Your clothing and most of the material objects around you are holograms and could not exist outside of this spaceship,” Lubda said. She darted to a side table and picked up a pen. “Is this a hologram?” “Affirmative.” “Okay.” Eve went to Leandros, took his arm, and turned it so the underside was facing up. “Remember this number,” she said, writing on his forearm with the pen. “It’s my phone number in Boston. But remember it, because if this ink is a hologram, it’ll probably disappear when we get back home.” Leandros repeated the number twice, then took the pen from Eve and wrote another number on her arm. “Call me,” he said, and held his hand up to his ear and mouth like a phone receiver. Eve laughed and nodded. Cassie looked away from her friends planning their future, and instead looked at Beau. He was standing in the doorway, hands in the pockets of his jeans, staring down at the floor.
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She bit her lip, wanting nothing more than to go to him, to touch him and love him. But that was impossible. Her thoughts were interrupted by Eve flinging her arms around her neck and giving her a tight hug. “I don’t know if I’ll see you again before we have to go,” Eve said into her ear, “but I’m glad we’re friends. I really didn’t want you to hate me for what I did.” Cassie squeezed her eyes shut. Her jealousy of Beau and Eve seemed a far-off memory. That pain had been so, so much less than what she was feeling now. She felt Leandros join the hug, putting his arms around both her and Eve. He kissed her on the top of her head. “You be good to yourself, Cass.” Cassie nodded. Though right now, she wasn’t sure how she was going to do that. After one last squeeze, Leandros went to Beau and held out his hand. “Later, dude. I’ll beat you at poker one day.” Beau shook his hand and clapped him on the back. “Dude,” he said. Eve gave Beau a swift kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of the hand. She whispered something to him that Cassie couldn’t hear, but she could guess what it was from the way that Beau’s lips tightened just slightly, and how he nodded but looked into blank air somewhere to the left of Cassie’s shoulder. Eve had said something about Cassie, about their relationship. And Beau couldn’t even respond. Eve took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready,” she said, turning to Lubda. “Ready, willing, and able,” said Leandros. He wrapped his arm around Eve’s waist and pulled her tight against him. The couple wavered, and disappeared. Two of Lubda’s eyestalks pointed at Beau, and two at Cassie. “Prepare yourselves to depart at the end of their performance,” the alien said. Its quills went up, and then down. “Judging from past experience, it may be some time.” Then it disappeared itself. Cassie looked at Beau, who had not moved and was still avoiding her gaze. She wanted to say so much, and she knew none of it would do any good. “We’re going home, then,” she said.
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He nodded. “It’s what you wanted, huh?” She couldn’t even answer that question. It was what she had wanted, back when she’d thought she had a chance of having Beau with her. Now, it seemed like the worst prison sentence imaginable. Beau let the silence stretch out. Then he nodded again, as if her non-answer had been exactly what he’d been expecting. “Well. We just have to wait for Leandros and Eve to finish having sex, and then it’s home sweet home,” he said. “Maybe if we’re lucky they’ll be quick this time, for once.” He stood there for another moment, not saying anything. Then he shrugged and turned back into the bedroom and out of sight. She could go to him. She could touch him, and talk to him, and try to convince him to love her. But she’d given him her heart already, and he’d refused it. And ironically, he’d helped her change too much. She might have begged for his love before she came to this spaceship. But now, after everything Beau had taught her about how to value herself, she couldn’t. Cassie stood there for a long time, watching the empty doorway. Then she sighed, and turned away, and sat on a chair to wait.
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Chapter Seventeen
The room was full of music and people. Eve blinked. She knew they were holograms, but it always surprised her to go from just the four of them to seeing other humans, even if they weren’t real. She wondered if going back to Earth would be a big surprise, a huge adjustment. It probably would. It was pretty weird, though, when an alien pornship felt like normality: safe, secure, almost home. That wasn’t the ship, though. It was how she felt about Leandros. The music was loud, a fast disco beat. Eve looked around. Flashing lights, mirrored balls hanging from the ceiling. She could see through the crowd to a dance floor made up of illuminated squares of colored lights. “A nightclub,” she said, smiling. Leandros would like that. She looked more closely at the people around her, all of whom seemed to be absorbed in the music or each other. The man closest to her had on bright yellow polyester bell-bottoms and a patterned shirt unbuttoned to his navel to display a hairy chest with several medallions resting on it. The woman he was talking to had on a sequined boob tube and gold satin hot pants. “A 70’s nightclub,” she corrected, her grin growing wider. Leandros would love that. She examined her own outfit. It was a red dress, low cut in front, slit up the sides of both her thighs. Sequins glittered along the hem and neckline. Her shoes were strappy, bright red, very high heels. Not bad. Not bad at all. She could probably both dance and fuck in this outfit. Which was important. Eve checked out the crowd, looking for a sign of Leandros. He didn’t appear to be anywhere in sight, but the D.J. had moved from a fast number to a slow, seductive song.
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Anticipation coiled in her belly. She wanted to dance, but not alone. And although Leandros would probably look for her first on the dance floor, she was very aware that this was their last scenario on the spaceship. She wanted to spin it out a little bit. Play the chasing game. Build the tension. Make it good while it lasts, a small voice said in her mind, and she shook her head, hard. She wasn’t going to think about that right now. It would only spoil what she had left. And maybe she didn’t have very much left. Eve turned and headed for the bar, brushing against artificial-fiber clothing and walking through clouds of aftershave. Gotta love the 70’s, she thought, mostly to distract herself from what she’d been thinking about. When she reached the bar she leaned against it, looking around again for Leandros. “Hey, foxy lady.” His voice came from behind her. She turned around, and had to catch her breath. He was wearing the white Travolta suit. No surprise there. What was surprising and breathtaking was how gorgeous he was. How next to him, every other person in the room, real or not, faded into nothing in her eyes. Incredible, how she could still be surprised at how much she wanted him after days, weeks, of having him in every way possible. How she could feel a burst of need inside her that was even stronger than she’d anticipated. She let her eyes travel down his body. He filled out the suit perfectly with his broad shoulders, his narrow waist. The black satin shirt was nearly the same as the one he’d worn the first time they’d had sex. Eve remembered being so overcome with passion that she’d ripped the buttons right off it, and she felt her nipples beading against the material of her dress. It was open several buttons down, and though he wore an inevitable gold medallion, even that couldn’t spoil the perfection of his chest. The white trousers hugged his slim hips and his long legs, the flared bottoms making him seem even taller. She let her gaze linger at his crotch, where the tight material did
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nothing to hide the impressive bulge. Then, smiling in a way she knew drove Leandros crazy, she slowly raised her eyes to meet his. “Well, hello there,” she said. Leandros leaned an elbow against the bar next to her, the top of his arm just brushing hers, his hand close enough to her forearm that she could feel his heat. “Pretty woman like you here all alone tonight?” He’d read her mind, and was playing the seduction game. “Maybe,” she said, and glanced away as if she were looking for her date. Teasing him. “Can I get you a drink?” She pretended to consider. “All right. I’ll have—” She tried to think of what a good 70’s drink would be. “A tequila sunrise,” she decided. It might not be particularly 70’s, but it was colorful and went with her dress. The slight twitch of Leandros’s lips let her know that he was amused by her drink choice, but he stayed in character and signaled the bartender to order. “So do you come here to Studio 69 often?” he asked as he waited for their drinks. She raised her eyebrows at the name, and he indicated a glowing neon sign behind the mirrored bar. Sure enough: Studio 69. She didn’t think it got its name because it was further down the road than Studio 54. “No,” she said. “I don’t come here often.” Although she’d like to come here often with Leandros. But saying so wouldn’t exactly fit the cool disco diva image she was trying to project. “So what sign are you?” Leandros asked. She nearly burst into a peal of laughter, but then she recovered herself and stayed in role. “Aries.” She winked at him. “It’s a fire sign.” “Well, I must be psychic then, because as soon as I saw you I knew you were a hot mama.” Eve had to hold her hand to her mouth for a moment. “How about you?” she asked when she had recovered. “What’s your sign, smooth talker?” “Virgo.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “And I’m smooth at a lot more than talking.”
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She let her gaze wander over him again. “Hmm. I bet you are.” She noticed that his cock had lengthened, and moisture gathered between her thighs. He liked this pick-up routine. And he was almost frighteningly adept at these cheesy lines. “Where’d you learn your lines, stud?” He shrugged. “I’ve been around the block a few times. But,” he added, taking their drinks from the bartender and handing her an orange and red cocktail, “I think you’re inspiring me to my best performance ever.” He chimed his glass of scotch with her tequila, and took a sip, never letting his dark smoldering gaze drop from hers. “You’re the most beautiful woman in this room,” he murmured to her. “In any room. Anywhere.” Her heart skipped as she sipped her drink, and she found it difficult to swallow. His lines had been lines. But this had been husky, sincere. From his heart. Leandros reached forward, took the drink gently from her hand, and set it down on the bar. “So how do you feel about sharing the night together?” He was standing so close to her that she could smell the whiskey on his lips. She breathed deeply of him. Oh yeah. She wanted to. She also wanted the game to last a little longer. He was good at pick-ups. A little bit too good. And she felt like giving him a run for his money. Showing him, without a shadow of a doubt, that she wasn’t like any of the other pick-ups he’d had. He knew that right now. But she didn’t want him to forget it, when he was back in Vegas, where he’d learned all these moves. She let herself sway just slightly closer to him. “How do I feel about sharing the night together?” she repeated. She touched the collar of his shirt with a single light finger, and then let it trail inside to touch, briefly, the skin of his neck. He sucked in a sharp breath. “I feel that it’s a very nice song by Dr Hook.”
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She turned and walked away from him, feeling her hips swaying, accentuated by the high heels she wore. She knew his eyes were on her as she wove her way through the crowd to stand, leaning against a metal railing overlooking the dance floor. Waiting for him made every nerve ending hypersensitive. She counted the seconds, the minutes. Watching the holograms on the dance floor, but not seeing them. Any moment now he would come up behind her, stand beside her, play the game again. The back of her neck tingled, her breasts felt swollen against her crossed arms, her insides were melting and warm. And yet he didn’t come. The song finished and another one began. The people on the dance floor began to do the Hustle. With one part of her brain she wondered how the Odilians knew how to program disco steps. But most of her attention was focused on Leandros. Whose presence she could feel as definitely as she could feel her own heartbeat, but who had not yet come to her. What if she was wrong and he wasn’t here any more? What if the aliens had gotten bored because they hadn’t gone straight to sex and Lubda had had to initiate the transport early to keep from getting discovered? What if she and Leandros were going to be separated without having the chance to make love once more? She bit her lip and tried to calm the chill of panic rising in her. Even if they did get transported back early, Leandros and she would see each other again. They’d exchanged numbers. That meant something. They’d made some sort of commitment to each other. Numbers that were going to disappear along with the ship. And how much commitment was a phone number? She straightened up, about to turn around and search the crowd for Leandros. Until she felt a hand, warm and large and unmistakably Leandros, on her hip. Eve pulled in a breath of relief. Which quickly turned into a gasp of surprise and desire as Leandros’s hand slid lightly and rapidly over her hip, down over her bottom and underneath her dress, straight between her legs. And she realized that she wasn’t wearing any underwear, and they were skin to skin, his palm pressing directly against her crotch.
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“You were waiting for me, weren’t you, baby?” he whispered into her ear, the words hot and thrilling, and she realized that Leandros had been playing his own teasing game. “Standing here and getting wet for me?” Yes. He spread his fingers, parting her so that his long middle finger could test her arousal. He slid just the first knuckle into her, and she couldn’t stifle a moan. “You were playing hard to get at the bar,” he said. “But as soon as you looked at me I knew you wanted me.” Jesus. How come his arrogance sent her into a frenzy of desire? When that arrogance was exactly what she feared above everything else about him? A man like Leandros, a man of huge sexual appetite and prowess, of unshakable selfconfidence, wasn’t built for a steady long-term relationship. She’d felt that all along— maybe it was partly what attracted her to him in the first place, as it was one of the many ways he was unlike Barry, unlike her whole life up to that point. But she’d managed to ignore that for most of the time they were together. It must be because it was about to end, that she could even think about it now, while he was slowly, expertly caressing her pussy with his fingers, withdrawing his middle finger from her and moving it to swirl around her clit, not touching it yet, but still playing havoc. “You’re very sure of yourself,” she said, her voice shaky. She couldn’t see him but she knew he was smiling. “Baby, I don’t need to be sure of myself. I can feel how turned on you are.” His hand still moved slowly. No other part of him touched her, though she could feel the heat of his body on her back through her dress. Only his fingertips, playing with her pussy, touching her just enough to give her pleasure, not enough to allay her frustration. She tightened her grip on the railing and spread her legs slightly to allow him better access to her. It was incredibly exciting to be here in a crowd, even though they weren’t real, being touched by Leandros as if he owned her. He brushed her clit, and she bit back a moan. She wondered if anybody would notice what he was doing, if they were in real life. His big body was close enough to shield her,
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and from the front it would just look as if he were talking with her. His movements were subtle enough, delicate enough not to be obvious, even though her dress was thin. He leaned forward and curled his left hand around the railing next to hers. She felt him bending down so that his mouth was near her ear. “The aliens are going to get impatient for us to have sex,” he whispered. “And I want to fuck you. But this one, Eve, it’s for us. Come for me. Don’t show them how you feel. Come and pretend that nothing’s happening. I want to be the only one who knows.” His words were intimate. They sent a shiver down her body. She nodded, almost imperceptibly, and she heard his soft sound of masculine satisfaction. He moved a little closer, so she could feel his body brushing hers. He was tall and protective and smelled of whiskey and of the wonderful warm scent of his skin. She could feel every breath he took, hear it too, even with the music blasting around them. He sank his middle finger into her, using his index finger to stroke her clit, and she nearly gasped before she remembered herself and clamped her mouth shut. She trained her eyes on the dance floor in front of her, curling her lips up in a slight smile as if she were amused by the couples boogying. She drew in long, slow breaths through her nose. “So do you think you could come here often?” he said conversationally. She shrugged, not exactly able to carry on a conversation. The movement shifted the cloth of her dress against her super-sensitive breasts. He picked up the pace of his caresses, just a little bit. Sliding his finger back and forth inside her, nowhere near the size of his cock, but still exciting. She tensed her belly as her pleasure mounted. “Do you think you’ll come…to like it here?” A real smile crept over her face. She got it. “I think I could come…to like it anywhere, if you were there with me,” she answered, her voice little more than a rough mutter. He chuckled. “Are you close…to feeling like dancing?” She swallowed, focused on keeping her breathing as steady as she could, keeping her eyes open. She was very close. Just a step away, and getting closer with every swirl of his fingertip, every movement of his finger inside her.
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“I think the music is reaching its climax,” she whispered as Leandros brought her right to the edge. She put her hand on top of his on the railing. She held her breath. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying out and with one more stroke from his finger, her orgasm hit her like a heavenly blow. She tightened her fingers on his and tensed every muscle to stop from swaying forward and bucking her hips against his hand. The room faded into formless flashing lights, the music drowned by the roaring in her ears. Another wave of pleasure hit her. And another. Her breath burned in her lungs, she felt her skin flushing, all the small hairs on her arms and neck rising up, and her body remained absolutely still aside from her fingernails digging into the back of his hand and her pussy contracting and squeezing around him. “I can feel you,” he whispered, and his words wrung another round of ecstasy from her. His warm breath tickling her ear and shuddering motionlessly down her spine. She made an involuntary sound in her throat, halfway between a whimper and a groan, so soft that only Leandros could hear it. He gave her one last caress, a small squeeze, and gently pulled his hand out from underneath her skirt. Eve finally trusted herself to open her mouth. She gulped in air, feeling her muscles relaxing at last, and leaning hard on the railing to keep herself upright. Leandros came around to stand beside her. He had a secret, powerful smile on his lips. “So, you think I’m too sure of myself?” he asked. Holding her gaze with his dark eyes, he slowly raised his right hand to his mouth and leisurely ran his tongue over the length of his middle finger. Licking her juices from his hand. She shivered with renewed desire. But the gleam in his eyes told her that the game was on again. “I think I’ll wait to make up my mind until I’ve seen what you can do on the dance floor,” she said.
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Somehow, she got her boneless body to stand up straight, and walk around the railing and down the steps to the glowing dance floor. She felt rather than saw Leandros following her. The song was pure disco, the lyrics about a one-night stand, the tempo fast and catchy. Eve walked to the centre of the floor, the lights pulsing underneath her feet. Couples were dancing all around her. She stood there, keeping subtle time with her body, until she felt Leandros’s hand on her again. This time, though, he kept his hand on her hip. And put another hand on her waist, and spun her around into his arms. She twirled, landed in his embrace, and immediately they were both moving to the beat. She’d made love with him dozens of times yet they’d never danced together. He had one hand on her hip, the other holding her left hand, her right hand on his shoulder, and without any effort they were moving to the same rhythm. “Hey!” he said, and she saw the delight on his face. He led forward and she followed, step after quickstep, a kick and another twirl to start it all over again. “Where’d you learn to dance?” he asked, his smile huge. “Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. Every night all through junior high in front of my bedroom mirror. And every school dance there ever was.” She snapped to the length of his reach, and back again so her breasts brushed his chest. “You?” “I’ve been dancing and singing as long as I can remember. I’m the youngest of a huge Greek family, you do whatever you can to get noticed.” He pressed her to him with his hand on the small of her back. Eve let herself arch away from him with her upper body, so her hips and legs were pressed even closer against him, still moving to the music. She could feel his erection against her belly. He led her through a complex series of steps, following the bridge of the music, his eyes sparkling as she moved perfectly in time with him. Eve laughed as he dipped her. Happiness bubbled up in her at the ease of their moving together, the simple joy of
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dancing. No problems, no aliens, nobody else, just the two of them having fun, touching, being in each other’s arms. He kissed her on her way back up from the dip. “I think I love dancing with you as much as I love having sex with you,” he said. “I know.” She tossed her hair back from her eyes, smiling like crazy. “It’s not going to keep the aliens as entertained as having sex, though,” she added. “We should probably get to it.” “What a hardship.” The song ended, and Leandros held her and looked down at her. “It’s ladies’ night tonight. Where do you want me, foxy mama?” She looked at the confident, sexy lift of his lip, the proud line of his nose, the dark gleam of his eyes. And she wanted to meet his challenge and better it, be bold and adventurous, standing tall and ready to show the world what she was made of. He made her feel that way. Eve stepped back from him and held out her hand. “Come with me,” she said. He took her hand and she led him across the dance floor, past the grooving couples, and up a set of stairs to a platform. It stood to the left of the D.J. booth, in full view of the entire nightclub. There was even a brass pole on it. The place for beautiful people to dance and to pose. Leandros nodded as they stepped onto the lit-up floor of the platform. “I like what you’re thinking,” he said. Of course. Because she was thinking like him. The music had started up again, and she stood in front of him, swaying in time to the beat. She ran her palms up the front of his shirt, eager to feel his bare skin. He caught her hands. “Wait. Wait a second. Because once we start, the dancing is going to go right out of my head, and we need to do this dance move.” He held up his index finger. “Look where you point.” She laughed and held up both her index fingers. “I’m ready.” “Do it.”
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Left, right, up, down, diagonally, toward the D.J., toward the crowd, in time with the music. Eve did her best Travolta impression and gasped with laughter, glimpsing Leandros’s utter concentration as he pointed and looked. “Come on, a quick Bus Stop!” he urged, and they fell into step together once again. “Yes!” he cried when they were done, punching and kicking the air. “You’re a total goofball,” she giggled. “A love machine goofball,” he corrected her. He shimmied back from her and, his eyes on her the entire time, shook off his white suit coat. When it fell off his shoulders and down his arms, he whipped it off and twirled it on his fingers for a few beats before he tossed it aside into the crowd below. Then he started on the buttons of his shirt. “Whoo!” Eve cheered on his strip tease. Inch by inch he revealed his gorgeous chest, his skin lit up red and then blue and then gold by the flashing lights. Slowly he slid the shirt down his arms, then danced with it for a moment before he flung it, too, down to the crowd. A polished shoe. Another one. Eve guessed it didn’t matter if they brained any hologram people after Leandros sent them in an arc through the air, but she couldn’t drag her eyes away to check. She loved to watch him move. His hands went to the button of his white trousers and she watched as, hips thrusting seductively, he unfastened them. He lost the beat for a second while he pushed them down his legs, but then he kicked them off, hitting the disco rhythm exactly. And then he stood in front of her, nude and aroused, the disco ball reflecting stars on his skin and his hair and in his eyes. She caught her breath. Surely there wasn’t another man this perfect in the universe. As he walked toward her, his lips pouted and his eyes smoldering, his huge cock bobbed with his movements. She couldn’t help but reach out and touch it. “Mmm,” he sighed in pleasure as she curled her fingers around his hard shaft. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” He nudged her dress off one shoulder and then reached ’round her back to unzip it. The disco dress, designed for maximum exposure,
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came away from her body with one tug from his hand and she was naked except for her high red heels. “You’re stunning,” he said, running his hands up and down her sides, forward to catch her breasts, and then down to cup her buttocks and pull her against him. He moved to the music again. The hair on his chest tickled her breasts and his erection poked hard against her stomach. Eve couldn’t help but look out onto the dance floor. Most of the holograms were still discoing, though half a dozen people had noticed them dancing naked on the stage, and were watching them with frank curiosity. She wasn’t going to think about that; Lubda had told them, anyway, that the holograms wouldn’t try to get involved any more. All she was going to think about was Leandros. She looked back into his dark eyes. “This Studio 69 place has given me a definite idea,” she told him, licking her lips. His eyes widened and he nodded. “My thoughts exactly.” Slowly, letting the music guide her, she slid down his body, relishing the friction of his skin against hers. His shaft slid over her belly and her breasts, and then as she rubbed her cheek against the side of it she felt it leap and pulse. Finally she sank to her knees and curled her hands around his strong thighs while she nuzzled his balls. She kissed the softly haired pouch, and opened her mouth to suck one of them inside. Leandros groaned. She took that as encouragement to caress him with her tongue, rolling his ball inside her mouth, and then to do the same to his other testicle. “I need to taste you,” he said. Eve kept on paying attention to his balls while he sank down onto the glowing floor of the dancing platform. She ended up on her hands and knees, Leandros lying prone. He grabbed her and maneuvered her around so that she was straddling his body with her crotch level with his face, and she was eye-on with his beautiful cock.
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She took it in her hands and felt up the length of it with her palms. She loved how it was so virile, potent, as hard as if it were sculpted in hot marble. She pumped him with both her hands as she felt Leandros’s hands on her ass pulling her down toward him. Then his hot mouth was on her, sucking and kissing madly as if he were desperate for her. And Eve couldn’t wait any more. She thrust her lips down on top of him, filling her mouth with his cock as far as she could go. Other times, they’d used their mouths and hands to tease each other and build a leisurely way to a climax. This was nothing like that. Leandros licked and nipped at her greedily, one minute sucking on her clit and the next stabbing his tongue inside her. His hands held her open and she could feel his fingers digging into her flesh, almost painful, but so exciting. She gasped around his cock and began her own desperate movements. She couldn’t get him far enough down her throat, couldn’t get enough of his hot rod pumping into her mouth. She grasped the base with one hand and swirled her tongue around his shaft in a frenzy. Every breath was full of his aroused scent. More. She wanted more, she wanted everything. Leandros was licking her so fast she couldn’t perceive the individual strokes, or understand exactly where he was touching her, because her entire pussy felt on fire. She arched her back and ground herself down into his face and she felt Leandros’s hips rising up to fuck her mouth. She loved this, being completely abandoned to him. Knowing that he accepted her appetites and welcomed them. That he was turned on by her demanding pleasure and release. She pulled her head up and twirled her tongue around the head of his cock, but then she went back to her rapid blow job, her fingers moving up and down the base of his shaft as fast as they could. They bumped against her lips as she tried to take him still deeper on each downstroke. She couldn’t help but groan against him as she sucked him, and she felt him doing the same thing and knew that he was getting pleasure from her voice as she did from the vibrations of his against her sensitive flesh.
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Her orgasm burst through her before she could feel it coming. For a moment she couldn’t move; she just held Leandros’s cock in her mouth, and rode through the climax with her eyes squeezed shut tight and explosions going off behind her eyelids. He didn’t stop. He knew how to carry her through, how to lift her to another level. Every new flicker of his tongue against her was overwhelming, so he lightened his strokes and let his breath caress her. Even the smallest touches made her whimper deep in her throat, made her start reaching for another climax. But first she needed to make him come. She reared back and used her hand, slick with her saliva and his pre-come, to pump up and down his cock. She held him tight and watched the purple head of his dick squeezing between her fingers. She ended each stroke with quick lashes of her tongue. “Eve,” she heard and felt him moan against her cunt, and she knew that was her cue, that he was close. She dropped her hand to cup and squeeze his balls, and resumed her frenzied sucking. His entire body stiffened and she felt his balls tighten. With a cry he lifted his hips higher up from the floor and he jerked inside her mouth. His semen spurted against her tongue and into the back of her mouth. She sucked and licked, swallowing the hot fluid and making sure she caught every drop. He was trembling. She felt his panting breaths against her inner thighs. She was close to another orgasm herself but the need to see his satisfaction on his face was greater than her need to come. She lifted herself off him and turned around to straddle his hips instead. His eyes were unfocused, his lips and chin wet. Eve leaned forward and kissed him. She could taste her own tangy juices on his mouth, and she knew he could taste his own come when their tongues met. This sharing felt even more intimate than their oral sex. Leandros drew in a deep breath and then let it out in a contented sigh. He took her head in his hands.
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“I needed you from the first minute I saw you,” he told her, his voice husky. “You know that, don’t you? It wasn’t the chemicals. And I wouldn’t have cared even if I’d known about you being engaged. I’d have done anything I could have to get you.” Emotion stole her breath. She couldn’t do anything but nod. “That probably makes me a bad person,” he said. “But it’s true. I touched your hand and I wanted to touch you all over. I wanted to feel myself inside you.” Eve felt tears prickle her eyes, and she forced them away. They were going to be leaving soon. She couldn’t let anything spoil their last few moments together. And he wasn’t talking about emotion. He’d never talked about emotion. He was talking about chemistry. How spectacular their bodies were together. And she already knew that. It was definitely nothing to cry over. She could feel him hardening against her already. She kissed him again and wanted to do, to say, so much more. “Fuck me,” she said instead. And she wanted that, too. Not as much as she wanted to know about his feelings. But close enough, and a lot safer. Leandros smiled and sat up, pulling her with him. “I will,” he told her. “But first you’re going to come again.” He took her hand and helped her to her feet. Her high heels made her closer to his height, but he still towered above her. He drew her with him to the pole on the corner of the platform. “Lean against this, baby, while I love you,” he said. His last three words made her heart thump, although she knew she had to take them in context. He was asking her to lean against a pole while he made her have an orgasm. And that was amazing, and it should be enough for her. She looked over his perfect body again, his defined muscles under his golden skin, and felt a rush of desire. She propped herself against the pole. The metal was cold against her back and her buttocks, but quickly warmed with her body. Leandros kissed her. He had a five-o’clock shadow, even though the aliens had given him razors; her thighs and her chin felt pleasantly chafed from the bristle. He kissed down her neck, running his tongue along the
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line of her collarbone, and then downward between her breasts. He took each of them in his hands and kneaded them while sucking on both nipples alternatively. Eve hissed and tangled her fingers in his silky, wavy hair. His caresses were bringing her right back to where she’d been before he’d come. He trailed his tongue down her belly and dipped it into her belly button as he lowered himself to his knees in front of her. He gently pressed her legs apart and tilted her hips forward with his hands. Then his mouth was on her pussy again. “Oh yes, lick me,” she groaned, lifted one of her legs, and curled it around his shoulder. This gave him better access to her, and he ran his tongue up and down her slit, teasing her clit and exploring her cunt. Sweet heaven. Eve let her head fall back onto the pole and, through heavy-lidded eyes, looked around her. Because she was so attuned to every noise Leandros made, every word he said, the music had faded into the background of her consciousness. But it was still thumping out from the speakers, and the lights were still flashing from the ceiling and the dance floor below them. The people directly below them had all stopped dancing. They were standing watching her and Leandros. Her eyes looked further around the room and saw that many other 70’s dressed people had abandoned their conversations or dance floor moves and were staring at them, too. As Lubda had promised, they weren’t doing anything, but watching. She could feel their eyes on her, though, although they weren’t real eyes. She focused on the gaze of a young man standing on an orange flashing square of the dance floor. His eyes were glued to her crotch, where Leandros lapped gently at her clit. “They’re looking at us, Leandros,” she said, tightening her fingers in his hair. He stopped licking her and looked up at her. “They’re not real, baby.” His brown eyes held hers. “We’re giving the aliens a show. All that really counts is you and me.” Then he smiled wickedly and bit her thigh. “And anyway, the holograms want you. You’re the sexiest thing they’ve ever seen. Here, spread open for me, giving me your body. You’re turning on the entire room.”
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With that, he lifted his hand to his mouth and she watched him lick two of his fingers, making them shiny and wet. Deliberately, he positioned his hand at the entrance to her pussy and thrust them inside her. She gasped and threw her head back further, closing her eyes. The disco lights flashed through her eyelids, she felt the echo of the music in the pole, as she reveled in the feeling of him pleasuring her. And yes, now that he’d said it, reveling in showing how much he pleased her. Of being proud of their lovemaking and letting the world know how much she adored it. She’d been close to an orgasm before he’d started and his fingers inside her in tandem with his mouth on her brought her to the edge again quickly. She groaned loudly and thrust her hips forward to his face. Never losing the rhythm of his mouth and his fingers fucking her, Leandros reached one of his long arms up and grasped one of her breasts. He rolled her nipple between his fingers. Eyes still closed, Eve imagined what they looked like there on stage. This magnificent man kneeling before her, worshipping her with his body. The picture toppled her over and she screamed her release to the spinning mirror balls on the ceiling. She was still pulsing and shaking when Leandros stood and with a single fierce thrust pinned her to the pole with his cock. “Oh, Jesus, Leandros, yes, fuck me now,” she cried, unaware of what she was saying, of anything except for this man inside her. She flung her hands upwards and grabbed the pole, holding on as tight as she could and pulling up her body so he had a better angle to penetrate her deeply. She crossed her ankles behind his back and held on for dear life. He supported her with his hands on her ass and pounded into her. She’d thought nothing could be wilder than their 69 session, but this took it to a whole new level. His movements were as greedy as they had been that first time, in the blue tube when they’d been driven crazy by pheromones, but this time he’d learned her body and how to drive her to even greater heights.
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And the feeling was so much more. Because she knew every smile, every crook of his eyebrow and how he curled his body around her while they slept. It had stopped being separate orgasms and become wave after wave of unbelievable pleasure. With every thrust Leandros’s body met hers and she felt his hard chest against her breasts, the coarse curls around his sex grinding into her super-sensitive clitoris. His skin was slick with his sweat. Her eyes weren’t closed any more although she wasn’t sure when she’d opened them; she looked deep into his dark eyes and saw all of her passion reflected in them. The sight made her ecstasy even sharper, clenched her pussy around his surging cock even more. She could see it when he was about to come. His pupils grew while his eyes narrowed. His pursed lips drew apart as he gasped for air. She tightened her legs around his hips and could feel his balls drawing closer to his body when he ground against her. Two more thrusts, four, six, each one better than the one before. And then his forehead furrowed, his eyes closed as if in pain, as he cried out “Eve!” and emptied himself into her. She reeled with the aftershocks coursing through her own body. Then Leandros, still holding her up with one hand, gently pulled her arms down from their grasp around the pole and curled them around his neck. She panted and held on to him as tightly as she could with her arms and her legs. Dimly, she heard the entire nightclub erupt with applause. Leandros’s eyes never left hers. “Wow,” she breathed. “Yeah.” He kissed her, long and slow and deep, and then smiled at her. “You’re incredible. A whole room of holograms and you gave everything to me.” He brushed her damp hair back from her face. “That’s what’s so hot about you, baby. You’re just as wild as I am.” With his words, a sudden small cold thread of fear shivered through her. She could think more clearly, now that she wasn’t being driven mad by his body.
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Yeah, she was wild here. In front of fake people, on a porn spaceship. What was going to happen when they got back home? Would she revert back to her boring, settled self? Because that was her real self, she was sure. Even the porn ship hadn’t changed her, really. She’d jumped from one monogamous relationship with Barry to another one with Leandros. Well, except for Beau, but that didn’t count. She’d even redecorated the damn spaceship so that it felt more like home. “I wonder how long they’ll give us before they send us back,” he said. His cheeks were flushed with his orgasm, his pupils dilated with passion. “Do you think they’ll let us dance for a little while and then I can fuck you again?” She thought for a moment she saw panic in his eyes, or sadness, but with the flashing lights it was hard to tell. She cupped his face in her hand, feeling a tenderness even greater than her ecstasy had been. God, she loved him. So damn much that it hurt her heart to think about it. And who knew when she would see him again. And whether, when she did see him again, they would be right for each other. What sort of relationship do you want with me? she wanted to ask him. But the time wasn’t right to talk about relationships. Maybe it never would be. He was wild and free and powerful, and maybe love was the total opposite of everything he was. Still, she had to tell him she loved him. Now, when he stood between her thighs, his seed inside her, his dick still stretching her, the sweat of their lovemaking cooling between them. Even though she was afraid to. If she never saw him again, she’d regret not telling him for the rest of her life. She’d think about it while she was alone. Like she thought about how she wished she’d told her mother and father one last time before she’d lost them forever. “Leandros,” she said, and his name felt so right on her lips. She traced his features with her fingers. When she brushed her thumb against his mouth, he kissed it. “I—” she started.
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And then the room shimmered and white flecks danced across her vision. The room was dark and so quiet that her heartbeat and the echo of the music roared in her ears. She lay in bed. As she caught her breath, she realized there was a heavy arm around her waist. Her sense of smell and touch told her before her conscious mind could figure it out logically. She was in her bed, at home. And Barry was holding her. It was all over. Eve lay still, trying to gather her wits. She waited until her breathing slowed and her heart rate had calmed down. Barry still held her and he was asleep. He was lying behind her, but she knew it without looking. Even the pattern of his breathing was familiar. She must have lost time here on Earth. A large amount. But she felt, somehow, as if the Earth hadn’t turned and the only time she was missing was the days on the spaceship. Surely Barry had missed her? He’d been worried about her, been looking for her? And yet he lay sleeping with his arm around her as if he didn’t know the universe had changed. He breathed in a single deep breath, tightened his arm around her, and muttered something in his sleep. Carefully, she lifted his arm and slipped out from underneath it. She sat up and got out of bed. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt. The same one she often went to bed in. Far from sexy, but comfortable. There was a metaphor in that, somewhere. Eve padded through the dark house, finding her way by familiarity and the dawn light filtering through the filmy curtains. Nothing was in a different place than her body instinctively remembered. Barry must have moved something? she thought. A newspaper on the floor? The telephone from its place in the hallway, while he was calling the police?
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She switched on the lights in the kitchen. The turquoise 50’s style tiles were bright and cheery, as she’d designed them to be. As usual, Barry had left his palm organizer on the counter next to his car keys. She picked it up to check the date and time. Tuesday, June 18th. 5:43 a.m. Eve staggered back against the retro Formica counter. It was the day after. About seven hours after the last moment she remembered on Earth. She looked at her arm. It was bare and clean. No phone number scrawled in Leandros’s bold handwriting. It could all have been a dream. But she raised her hand to her lips. They were still tingling, chafed from the friction of hot hard skin and bone-melting kisses. Her nipples were still erect, sensitive to the cotton of her T-shirt. On her thighs, she felt the slick wetness of Leandros’s semen and her own arousal. And she knew, bone-deep with her whole body, that she had lost another person that she loved. Eve sank down in one of her own kitchen chairs, rested her head on the cold table, and cried.
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Chapter Eighteen
Bang! Snuffle! Bang! Snuffle! Bang! The noise filtered through the thick fog in Beau’s brain. A loud repeated thud, interspersed with a wet breathing noise. And his face felt soaked. Beau sat up and whacked his head on something hard. “Shit.” He fell back down, clapped his hand to his forehead and looked around through a haze of pain and confusion. He appeared to be lying on the green carpet of the living room of his apartment. And he appeared to have just brained himself on the bottom of his coffee table. Then again, he’d learned not to take appearances for granted just lately. Carefully, he sat up. Immediately a big brown bundle of hair and drool careened into him and knocked him back down again. “Boo!” Beau cried and flung his arms around his dog. He felt solid, warm, hairy, and very excited. Boo stuck his nose in Beau’s face, snuffling and licking and drooling. Wet face mystery solved. He must’ve been lying here for a little while. Beau struggled to sit up again, wrestling his dog from his chest onto his lap and hugging him. He hadn’t starved to death while Beau’d been away on the spaceship. In fact, he didn’t seem to be any worse for wear. “Who fed you, boy?” Beau asked him. “Or did you learn how to open the fridge?” Boo answered with panting and the thump of his tail. Who gave a damn? Boo was all right. He could’ve opened an account at the local pizza delivery place for all Beau cared. “It’s good to see you, fella.” A slobbery lick let him know his dog felt the same way. “I guess you missed me, huh?” www.samhainpublishing.com
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Bang! Bang! Bang! And there was the second mystery solved. His apartment door was being thumped so hard that the thin wood was shaking. Beau extricated himself from his dog and stood up. He had to shake his head to clear it. Either the bump on the forehead had mixed up his brains, or the journey from the spaceship to here had left some brain cells behind. And that wasn’t all he’d left behind. With the thought a fist of pain nearly knocked him back over again. He was never going to see Cassie again. Beau had to double over and catch his breath. The thought made him feel hollowed out, and worse than he’d ever felt in his life. Boo licked his face. Bang! Bang! “Beau, you son of a bitch, open the damn door!” He recognized the voice. Beau took a deep breath, straightened up, and went to the door. His brother Dwight was standing in the hallway looking mightily pissed off. “Where the hell you been?” “I don’t think you’d believe me,” Beau said. He looked at his brother. He looked the same as the last time he’d seen him. He was even wearing the same clothes. Which shouldn’t be surprising, but it was. Maybe because it felt like Beau had been through so much, it was weird that nothing back here in Sawyer’s Cross had changed in all the time he’d been gone. “What day is it?” Beau asked. Dwight frowned at him. “What do you mean? It’s Tuesday.” “Which Tuesday?” “You still drunk or something? It’s the Tuesday when you’re supposed to be at work at eight, like every other Tuesday. Merle told me to come over here and tell you to get your ass down the garage.”
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Beau turned away from his brother and looked around his apartment. There was a book face-down on the coffee table next to two empty bottles of Heineken. A stack of CDs on the floor, his guitar standing in the corner. The pillow on the couch still held the indentation of his head. He went into the kitchen. It looked all right. There was an empty pizza box on the counter, and Boo’s food dish was licked clean, but his water bowl was half full. It all looked exactly the same as the last time he’d been here. “Did you feed Boo?” he asked Dwight, who’d followed him into the kitchen and was lighting a cigarette. “Nope. Why, can’t you do it yourself?” “I mean while I was gone.” “Where you been?” Beau ran his hands through his hair. This conversation didn’t seem to be going anywhere. “Dwight, when was the last time you saw me?” Dwight took a long drag on his cigarette. “Last night. Me and you played cards, remember? Man, you must’ve tied one on after I left.” “Last night?” “Yeah, I went home about eleven. Nearly hit a fucking skunk.” Beau looked at the clock next to his refrigerator. Ten-oh-six. “It’s only been eleven hours?” he said slowly. Eleven hours. Maybe even less, because who knew how long he’d been passed out beneath his coffee table. Those few hours, to have enough sex and feel enough emotion for a lifetime. Except it wasn’t nearly enough. Beau went to the cupboard, got out the bag of dog food for Boo, and filled him a bowl. The aliens must have manipulated time, somehow. And the experience had manipulated his brain, because even though everything looked the same, everything felt very different.
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“Merle’s pissed,” Dwight told him. “He had four jobs booked in this morning.” “You could’ve done them,” Beau said. “About time you got a job instead of watching me go to work every day and borrowing fifty dollars every Friday.” Dwight looked taken aback, but Beau didn’t much care. He went to look for his leather jacket. It was right where he always put it, hanging behind the living room door, with his truck keys in his pocket. As he pulled it on he saw Cassie wearing it over a nightgown shredded by their passion. Pulling it tight over her full breasts, curling up her shapely legs underneath it. It hadn’t really been his leather jacket; it had been a hologram. But he still buried his nose in the collar, searching for her scent. Nothing. “Come on, Boo,” he called, and his dog abandoned his breakfast and loped out the apartment door after him. He rolled down the window of his truck so Boo could stick his head out and let his jowls flap in the breeze. He’d driven the road to Uncle Merle’s garage more times than he could count, but today he was seeing everything with new eyes. What would she think of that house with all the lawn ornaments? What would she make of that guy who always stood by Greco’s Diner with a bottle of cheap bourbon in a paper bag? What questions would she ask about Beau’s day-to-day life, about the rock music on the radio, about why he’d stayed here for so long? And what would he say back to her? Beau pulled up the truck at the garage. Well, it was stupid to wonder all this stuff because he was never going to see Cassie again and he might as well get used to it. If he was back in Alabama, she was back in Connecticut, and she was probably standing in her perfectly decorated house wondering what the hell had come over her in the eleven hours that she’d been gone. How she’d been deluded enough to think she was in love with some hick mechanic. Boo’s toenails clicked after him on the concrete as he entered the garage. The place smelled of brake fluid and motor oil and Merle’s terrible coffee. As always.
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“Where the hell you been? And why you got that mutt with you?” “Hi, Merle.” Beau’s uncle was standing in a pair of greasy coveralls, frowning. Beau still wanted to hug him. He’d missed Merle. Why do I love him when I resent the hell out of him? Cassie would know. He wanted to ask her. Instead he said, “What you got for me?” Merle jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “The brakes on the Mustang’s gotta be done for one o’clock. I been busting my ass all morning. What are you, hungover or something? You look like shit.” Shit was nothing compared with how he felt. “I’ll get to work.” He motioned for Boo to lie down in the corner and he found his coveralls hanging on the wall and pulled them on. The garage was full of dusty car parts and the floor was black with patches of oil. How’d he ever think that the alien hologram was anything like the real thing? Merle was already underneath the car. Beau sighed in resignation as another bolt of pain hit him. It would have to be a Mustang. Later than ’72, it looked like an ’84. And blue instead of red. But still close enough so he couldn’t think of anything but Cassie sprawled on the hood, her breasts rising and falling with her rapid breathing, her legs spread open and welcoming him inside. And Alabama and Merle’s garage and the ’84 Mustang were reality. So how come the spaceship and the ’72 Mustang and Cassie felt so much more real? “Hey, big boy.” Beau turned to see a woman standing by the entrance to the garage. She was tall and blonde, wearing short shorts and a cropped halter-top that left nothing to the imagination. She let her eyes travel up and down his body and then smiled at him with wide red lips. “I just dropped by to see what time you could take me,” she drawled, her voice pure sultry south. “I mean, my car.” “I’ll check the books,” Beau said, and turned toward the office.
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“Beau, what you thinkin’? We’ll take this young lady’s car whenever she can bring it in.” Merle had climbed up from the pit and was standing beside Beau, wiping his hands on a greasy rag and smiling at the woman. Jesus. His uncle was practically drooling. Even Boo had cocked up an ear. And Beau couldn’t feel anything but this emptiness and pain. “Thanks, hon. I’ll be back later to see what you can do for me.” The woman winked at Beau, gave him a last lingering look, and turned around, her ass twitching back and forth as she walked away. “Sweet Peter in heaven,” breathed Merle. “That is a sight for sore eyes. If I was your age, Beau, I’d be getting into those shorts.” Beau looked at Merle. Everybody had always said Beau looked like Merle when he was younger. They both had the same brown hair, blue eyes, the same build, although Merle had grown a little heavier and a little grayer over the years. Now he wondered if looks were all that Beau took after his uncle in. “Did you ever want to go anywhere, Merle?” Beau asked him. “Do something other than fix cars?” “Sure. I wanted to be a race car driver. I had a real good race in Florida, people said I could go places. Then my dad died and left me this place.” He shrugged. “I coulda done worse.” But you could have done better. Beau stared at his uncle, fifty-six years old, never married, with a string of ex-girlfriends all through Sawyer’s Cross, and saw himself in thirty years. Working underneath a car every day, reminiscing about what could’ve been. Spending his nights playing poker, drinking beer, and thinking about getting into the shorts of blondes. Beau unzipped his coveralls and stepped out of them. “Merle, I need the rest of the day off.” “You just got here.” Merle’s face was a picture of surprise. Not that different to how Dwight’s had been.
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“I need to do stuff. And I’m giving you notice. I’ll work until you hire somebody else, but then I’m out of here.” He whistled for Boo, who trotted over to his side, leaving droplets of drool on the concrete floor. “But where am I gonna find a mechanic like you?” Beau shrugged. “Try Dwight, he can do it. You’ll have to kick his ass, but that won’t hurt him.” He unhooked his leather jacket and put it back on. “And what are you going to do?” Beau folded his arms and looked straight into Merle’s blue eyes. “I’m going home to fill out some applications. I’m going to college. I want to be a vet.” It was the first time he’d ever said it out loud. He glanced at the Mustang and remembered how Cassie had said that he’d changed her, he’d given her the courage to stand up for herself and be proud. She’d changed him, too. Merle was nodding. “Well, all right then. You get into college and you work here until then. I’ll see if I can’t twist Dwight’s arm to do some work for once.” His uncle put his rag on the workbench and climbed back into the pit under the Ford. And it was that easy? That was all it took to start a new life? To say it out loud and believe it? He climbed into his truck after Boo and sat behind the wheel, staring at the road ahead of him. No, it wasn’t that easy. He needed to fill out the applications, get accepted somewhere, and even if he was accepted, figure out how he was going to pay for the whole thing. He had savings but he’d need financial aid and a job, too. And then there was the whole fact that he was deeply, hopelessly in love with Cassie and he didn’t know how to get her back. Beau remembered the endless time before they’d been transported away from the spaceship, how he’d sat in the bedroom, his head in his hands, waiting. Knowing that Cassie was in the next room and he’d never see her again. He’d wanted nothing more
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than to go to her, take her in his arms, and tell her how he really felt. He’d hurt her, and the thought was unbearable. Beau turned the key in the ignition and the truck engine roared into life. He’d made a huge mistake, one that was torturing him. And it might be too late to take it back. But that was what he’d have to do. Not right now, though. First, he had to start his new life. He wasn’t going to see Cassie until he had something more to offer her than a life with an unhappy garage mechanic. When he saw Cassie, he wanted to pour out his dreams to her, including the dream that they could be together. He had no idea whether she’d want to listen. After what he’d said to her, probably not. A picture of her face, in pain and bravely blinking back tears, came into his vision. He’d caused that, and maybe she’d never forgive him. But he’d try. He put the truck into gear and drove off.
“She says she’s been on a spaceship.” Cassie was refilling her punch glass when she heard the whisper. It was hard to tell exactly who it was without turning around, but it sounded like Melanie Porter, one of her mother’s book club members. “Oh my God. Really?” The answering whisper was a little louder, and it was full of thrilled curiosity. Probably Barbie Kent. She was Melanie’s closest follower. “Molly and Richard are going insane. Their only daughter. She says she was gone for days, if not weeks. Of course, she never even left the house.” The titter of barely muffled laughter. Cassie slowly put a few canapés on a plate, listening. “So aren’t they worried that she’s leaving, now of all times?”
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“Simply frantic. But Molly says, what can they do? She has her mind set on it, making their lives a misery. They think she’ll get sick of being away and studying social work after a few months and come home again.” Cassie turned on her heel. The women were huddled under a pool umbrella, clutching cups of punch and porcelain dishes of smoked salmon and quail eggs. Melanie and Barbie, as she’d thought, with Caroline Goodridge thrown in for good measure. She walked straight up to them. As she approached, the women straightened up from their gossip posture and plastered on fake smiles. “My mother always taught me that it was rude to talk about people behind their backs,” Cassie said pleasantly. “I think it’s especially rude to do so when you’re at their house, eating their food and drinking their punch.” She gave them a dazzling smile, and walked off. She shook her head as she walked around the pool, past groups of people, and walked up the steps to the patio. She never should have agreed to this going-away party; none of the people here were her friends. She hadn’t seen her real friends in nearly a month, since they’d been released from the Odilian spaceship. She’d talked to Eve on the phone briefly, but while she’d seemed glad to hear from Cassie, Eve had sounded distracted and worried. From what she’d gathered, Eve was dealing with the breakup of her engagement while she was finding somewhere new to live, so it wasn’t surprising she was distracted. She’d asked Cassie if she’d heard from Leandros. Cassie hadn’t, and she’d said so, though she knew that wasn’t what Eve wanted to hear. She sighed. Maybe it hadn’t worked out for them. Real life wasn’t like the spaceship. Beau had been right. For weeks, whenever the phone rang, whenever the doorbell rang, her heart leapt. Thinking it was him, that he’d changed his mind. She’d looked up his phone number on the internet, and she’d wanted to call it every hour. But there was no point, if he didn’t love her. It would just be torture for her.
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She didn’t want a life without Beau. But if she had to have one, she’d make the best of it. She’d learned too much not to. The past few weeks had been very busy. Talking with her parents, trying to be truthful with them, while at the same time trying to convince them she wasn’t crazy. Sorting out an apartment in Hartford and applying to switch colleges and majors from pre-law to social work, and looking for a job. No matter how busy she’d been, every waking hour had been filled with thoughts of Beau. And her dreams were something else altogether. When she was awake, she was thinking about him. When she was asleep, she was with him. Reliving every single moment they’d spent together in emotional, erotic detail. She knew that dreams showed your real desires, and in her case, her dreams showed her that even though she was getting on with her life, her heart was still stuck back six weeks ago, with Beau on the spaceship. Her parents had tried to get her to see her therapist after she’d come back claiming she’d been abducted by aliens. She’d refused. There was nothing a therapist could tell her that she didn’t know already. Now, her parents were standing on the patio talking together. When they saw her coming, their faces changed. “Cassandra!” her mother greeted her. “Are you enjoying the party?” They didn’t know how to cope with her new personality, she knew. They kept on looking at her as if she were about to explode into gibberish and froth at the mouth. “I think it was very nice of you to organize it for me,” she said, which was the most positive thing she could say and still be truthful. “It’s not too late to change your mind about leaving,” her father said. “I can’t help thinking that you don’t look very happy.” Cassie raised her eyebrow. She wasn’t surprised that she didn’t look happy, but she was surprised that her father had noticed. “I’m not happy,” she explained to him, though she’d told him this before. “I fell in love on the spaceship and the man I love doesn’t want to be with me.”
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Her father frowned. “Cassandra,” he started. The doorbell rang. More of her parents’ guests who she wasn’t interested in seeing, no doubt. Still, she didn’t mind the excuse to cut short this conversation. “I’ll just get the door,” she said. “And greet my guests,” she added, to make sure her parents didn’t object. She hurried through the house, her footsteps echoing on the polished hardwood floors. Most of the guests were outside, but there were empty glasses and plates scattered through the house, and she had to skirt around the caterers and waiters that had been hired in for the day. The bell had rung twice more before she opened the heavy front door. Beau stood outside it. Cassie stepped back in shock, every nerve in her body flaming into life and freezing at the same moment. Good Lord, he was even more beautiful than she remembered. Tall and broadshouldered, his long hair hanging silky over his shoulders and his eyes lazy blue. “Hi,” he said. He looked about as stunned as she felt. “Beau,” she said. All she wanted to do was to fling herself into his arms and kiss him senseless and rip his clothes off and make love to him right here on her parents’ porch. Instead, she said, “You found my house. In real life.” Beau winced. He clearly remembered his rejection of her as well as she did. Then she saw him raise his chin and he looked her straight in the eyes. “I was wrong,” he said. “I don’t want to live without you, and I’ll do anything to make it work. I love you.” It took a moment to sink in. And then Cassie felt as if she were smiling with her whole body. She hurled herself forward into his arms and he held her tight to him. “I love you,” she vowed, and their lips met in a kiss that was even more passionate than what she’d been dreaming about.
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The taste of him, as his tongue mingled with hers, the feeling of his straight hard teeth, his soft lips, his gently rasping beard. His big hands on her body, running over her back and pulling her even closer, the strength of his chest. It was all exactly what she remembered but even better. Because this time she knew that he loved her. Beau pulled away to look into her face and smile at her. “I was scared you’d slap me for being so stupid.” “Nope.” She kissed him on the tip of his nose and then briefly and so sweetly on his lips. “What took you so long though?” “I had to make some changes,” he said. “I quit the garage and applied to college. I’m going to try to be a vet.” Cassie beamed approvingly. “I can see you as a vet.” He grinned back, obviously pleased by her words. “I applied to college too,” she told him. “Well, a new college. Except I’m not going to be a vet. I’m going to be a counselor. I’m going to Hartford today to work, until the semester starts at the University of Connecticut.” “I applied there,” Beau said, and he looked shy and adorable, as if he wasn’t sure how she’d feel about it. “I wanted to be close to you.” Cassie seized his hand. “Oh Beau. Thank you.” She kissed him lingerly, loving the softness of his lips. “This is great! Here, come and meet my family.” Beau hesitated. “I’m not sure—” She pulled at his hand. “Come on, I was just talking about you to them.” Beau came with her, but his steps were slow and reluctant. “This is a really nice house,” he said, looking around as she pulled him through the foyer. “Sort of looks like you’re having a party.” “We are. It’s my going-away party and I don’t like any of the people here.” Beau stopped. “Cass, we have to talk about something before I walk into one of your family’s parties.” She frowned, puzzled. “What?”
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“Darlin’,” he said, and ran a tender hand over her cheek. “I’m not from the same kind of background as you. My dad drank most of his paycheck, my mom is a hard, bitter woman, and I’m wearing the nicest clothes I own right now.” He gestured down to his clean jeans and his battered leather jacket. “I was wrong to think that money and class should keep you and me apart. But I don’t think your parents are going to feel the same way.” Her frown turned into a smile. “Beau, I love you and you love me. That’s all that matters. I mean, heck, my family didn’t believe me when I said I’d been abducted by aliens. But they’ve just had to accept it, that’s all. They’ll have to accept you, too.” A sparkle came into his eye. “You told them we’d been abducted?” “Of course. I’m always honest with the people I love.” Beau swept her up into his arms and swung her around. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re the best.” He kissed her with so much warmth and love that Cassie felt a little dizzy. “Let’s go meet them.” They walked out to the terrace, Beau’s arm around her shoulder, her arm around his waist. Her parents had been joined by Melanie, Barbie, and Caroline and they were all conversing in low tones. “Mummy, Daddy, this is Beau Bryson.” All five of them turned to face Cassie and Beau and all of them blinked, more or less in unison. “Mr. and Mrs. Elliot, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Beau said, holding out his hand to Cassie’s father. Her father took it, clearly very confused. “Beau is the man that I met on board the spaceship,” Cassie said. “We’re in love and he’s going to come to Hartford with me.” Richard Elliot was still shaking Beau’s hand, although he looked like he wasn’t sure what he was doing. He cleared his throat. “Uh—” “You met on a spaceship, did you?” Melanie’s voice dripped with ridicule. Beau turned to her. “Yes, ma’am, we did. And it was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
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She just stared. Cassie’s father finally finished shaking Beau’s hand and stood there, at a loss as to what to do next. “Would you like some punch?” Cassie’s mother asked. Cassie beamed at her. Of course her mother would be polite and try to make Beau feel at home. “Thank you, Mrs. Elliot, I’d love some.” Cassie’s mother hurried off to fill a glass. Cassie noticed that all of the guests were staring now. Seven weeks ago, she would have been crawling under the table in the humiliation of being looked at askance. She would have tried to please all of these friends of her parents’. Now, she just smiled at them with all the happiness she felt and tightened her arm around Beau’s waist. “Isn’t he wonderful?” she said to Melanie and Barbie and Caroline, and then she turned to her father. “He makes me so very happy, Daddy.” Richard cleared his throat again. “Well, that’s nice, dear.” Molly Elliot came back with a glass of punch. Beau thanked her, and drank it down with one gulp. Everyone still stared. Cassie noticed that Barbie was definitely checking out Beau’s body. She looked over at the other end of the pool, where Melanie and Barbie’s husbands were standing, wearing golf shirts that barely stretched over their bellies, and she giggled. “Well, this party is very nice, but I think we’re going to hit the road,” Cassie said cheerfully. She let go of Beau and kissed her father and her mother. “We’ll call you as soon as we get to Hartford to let you know we’re all right. Bye!” she said to the rest of the guests, and she and Beau went back into the house. “I think they liked me,” Beau said as she tugged him, at a run, across the hallway and up the stairs to her room. “Well they should because you’re perfect. Let’s get my stuff and get the hell out of here,” Cassie said. “I want to have sex with you in the worst way.”
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They grabbed her suitcases and ran back down the stairs and out of the house. Beau’s pickup was parked at the end of a long line of Lexuses and Mercedes. Cassie threw the suitcase she carried into the back and opened the passenger door. A big brown hound dog bounded out on top of her, snuffling and licking and wagging its tail so hard that its whole body shook. “Hello, Boo,” she laughed. She climbed in and the dog scrambled onto her lap. Beau got in beside her and started up the truck. “Goodbye old life!” She waved gleefully to her house as they went down the drive, until they’d turned a corner and the house was out of sight. Then the truck stopped. Cassie looked over at Beau inquiringly. He winked at her, and opened his door. “Go on, Boo,” he said, “have a run before we hit the road.” Boo scrambled over him and jumped out of the truck, disappearing into the bushes that lined the Elliots’ secluded driveway. “What are you doing?” Cassie asked, although she had enough of an inkling that she felt her pussy tingling and growing damp. “I can’t wait until we get to Hartford to touch you,” he said to her, putting one hand on her bare thigh, just above her knee where her skirt finished. “And you said you’d never had sex in a car before. Or a truck.” “Both of those statements are true,” she agreed. He surveyed the truck cab, and then nodded. “I don’t want the wheel to get in the way,” he said. “Stand up for a second, darlin’.” She obediently rose. She couldn’t straighten up in the cab, but she lifted herself off the seat enough so that Beau could slide across the center of the cab and sit on the bucket seat beneath her. His big hands held her hips and turned her so that she was facing him, her legs straddling his. The soft, clean denim of his jeans and the hard muscles underneath felt heavenly on the inside of her naked thighs. She wriggled against him so she fit more snugly with his body. Her breasts were pressed up against his chest and his crotch rubbed the thin material of her panties. “I missed you so much,” he breathed, and kissed her.
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She’d wanted to have sex with him when he wasn’t around, and she’d wanted to even more as soon as she’d seen him again. But now, in his arms, with his body strong and hard beneath her, his heartbeat fast against her breast, she wanted him so much she could barely stand it. She wriggled against him again, pressing her crotch down onto his. She could feel the ridge of his erection through his jeans, and she slid up and down on it. Even through her underwear the pressure on her clit drove her mad. Beau too, judging from his moan. He pushed her T-shirt up and pulled her bra down to free her breasts. Immediately he took one of her nipples into his mouth and she cried out, the sound loud in the truck cab. His tongue rasped hot against the taut tip, and his teeth grazed her. His facial hair was a caress in itself. She tangled her hands in his hair and held him tight to her, grinding her hips up and down on him. It was so good. But she’d been without him too long, she was too desperate. “Beau, I need you inside me,” she gasped. He lifted his face from her breasts and smiled at her. The sight made her heart swell. “Did you think about me while we were apart, Cass?” “All the time,” she nodded. “Did you think about me making love to you? My cock buried deep inside you?” His blue eyes held hers, lazy and intense. “Yes.” His words were turning her on nearly as much as his body. “Did you touch yourself when you thought about me? Did you make yourself come?” “Yes,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t like being with you. It made me sad.” “I thought about you, too.” His hand crept around to cup her buttock, and then further, underneath her panties, to stroke slowly between the wet lips of her pussy. “I wanted to make love to you every minute. I wanted to come find you as soon as I got back to Alabama. But I had to wait until I’d sorted out a future that could have you in it.”
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He dipped a finger inside her, and she gasped. Then he moved his hand forward, so his fingertip swirled around her clit. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” he said. Through the haze of ecstasy his hand was causing, she looked into his face. His pupils were dilated with desire, and his expression was serious. “I started falling in love with you in the blue tube,” he said to her. “And by the second time we had sex I was head over heels. You’re the most important person in the world to me. I just didn’t think I was good enough for you.” Emotion swelled through her: love, and compassion, and need. “Oh, Beau, you’re more than good enough for me. I think you’re amazing.” His hand hadn’t stopped moving; it still feathered over her clit in exquisite caresses. “We come from two different worlds and I didn’t trust that love could overcome that. It nearly killed me when you said that you loved me in the garage scenario. I wanted to tell you how I felt. But I thought it would only cause us both pain.” He kissed her, so softly and tenderly, and then smiled at her. “I was a dang idiot. Can you forgive me?” She nodded. What he was saying was important, and she loved every word. But it was difficult to concentrate when he was doing such wonderful things to her. “On one condition,” she said. “What’s that?” “I want you to fuck me as hard as you possibly can. Because it’s been so long since I had sex with you that I think I might have turned back into a virgin.” She adored his smile, his face, his body, everything about him. “Oh, you’re definitely not a virgin any more,” he said. “I saw to that personally. Again and again and again.” “I wish you’d see to it now.” She scooted back on his lap and tugged at the button of his jeans. Beau grinned as she unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock, long and thick and hard. The feeling of it hot and alive in her hand made her mouth water.
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“Anything you want, darlin’.” He pushed her underwear to the side and positioned her over him. The blunt tip of his cock nudged against her pussy and she bit her lip at how incredible, how right, it felt. She was greedy to feel more. She braced her arms on his shoulders and sank down, impaling herself inch by delicious inch on his throbbing dick. She let out a ragged groan of total pleasure when she reached the bottom and felt the coarse curls of his pubic hair grinding against her. He stretched her, filled her like nothing else could ever do. His face showed that he felt everything she did. “You’re not scared that one of your parents’ rich friends is going to come by and see us rutting in the truck like a couple of horny teenagers?” he asked, his voice a breathless laugh. “Let them see. I don’t care,” she said, and she began to move over him. Oh, God. She’d thought that having him buried inside her was the ultimate sensation, what she’d been missing most. But having him sliding out of her, and then back in, was even better. She’d said she wanted it hard, but she took it slowly for the first few strokes, enjoying how Beau let his hands rest on her hips and let her take her own pace. She remembered the blue tube. How strikingly new the experience had been, and far better than she’d ever imagined. The aliens had pumped pheromones into them, but she didn’t think that the chemicals could be any more arousing than the simple scent of Beau, like clean man and shiny hair and cotton and leather and the musk of arousal. She remembered she’d been shocked at how alive Beau had felt inside her and how she had stretched to fit him. The unexpected sound of their joining as their flesh met and pounded together. It wasn’t new this time, but it was a thousand times better. She knew how to tilt herself so that his cock hit the perfect places in her vagina, so her clitoris rubbed against his lower belly with every stroke. She knew how to arch her back toward him so he leaned forward and sucked and nuzzled at her breasts. And this time she knew that she loved him, and he loved her. She picked up the pace and now Beau held her hips more tightly and moved her. She could feel the tension in his body beneath her, in the sharp pants of his breath.
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“You feel so damn good, Cassie,” he gasped. “I’ve never felt anything better,” she said. Her climax was building rapidly and she welcomed it, abandoning her body to wild, frantic movements. “I never will.” “I want to be your only man forever.” And with the words she felt ecstasy overwhelm her. She pulsed, again and again, and trembled with the waves of bliss. She tightened her hands in his hair and screamed, her voice loud in the truck, but nowhere as loud as the joy thrumming through her veins. Beau roared and lifted his hips from the seat to slam into her one last thrilling time, and she felt his hot seed spurting deep into her. He stayed that way, his hips lifting them both into the air, as his cock jerked inside her. And then he collapsed, tightening his arms around her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and panted against her skin. This was something else she’d learned along with his body. She loved orgasms with him. She loved to shudder around him, feel him exploding into her. But even that ultimate experience wasn’t anything compared with what she felt in her heart. “Cassie, my Cassie, my darlin’, darlin’ girl,” he muttered roughly into her neck, stroking his hands over her back, through her hair, as if she were the most precious creature on earth. She kissed him with every ounce of feeling she had. And gradually, through the heartbeat drumming through her ears, she heard a wobbly, mournful sound. A howl like a creature sobbing out its frustration to the cold blue moon. So much like how she’d felt only an hour ago, and how she knew she’d never feel again. She smiled. “I think your dog is lonely.” “Yup. We’re going to have to find him a girlfriend in Hartford, or else he’ll be doing this outside our bedroom door every night.” “I’m sure there are some lady hound dogs in Hartford,” she said. With a sigh of completion, she lifted herself off him and felt his penis sliding out of her. She didn’t want this to end, but they had to get out of her parents’ driveway. And they’d be doing it again soon.
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Maybe she’d suggest to Beau that they had to make a few stops for rest and recreation on the way. Beau gave her a long kiss before he tucked his cock back into his jeans and slid over to the driver’s side. He waited until she’d rearranged her clothes, and then opened the door to let his dog back into the truck. Boo surged into the cab like a whirlwind. A very wet whirlwind, Cassie discovered as he scrambled onto her lap. The dog was soaked and dripping. “He must have jumped into my parents’ pool,” she said, and then laughed as she imagined Boo splashing into the turquoise water while all of her parents’ friends watched in horror. Boo planted his paws on her legs and shook himself out, spraying water in every direction. She spluttered and wiped water from her face. Boo licked her cheek, replacing the water with slobber. Beau scraped back his now-wet hair from his face and started the truck again. “I think I’m going to love this trip,” Cassie said.
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Chapter Nineteen
“Lee, the mic’s on.” Leandros started, then nodded at his bandmate Stig. He stepped up to the microphone. “Testing one, two, three. Testing.” Even as he spoke the standard test into the mic, he didn’t listen to his own voice. He didn’t listen to the volume or the clarity of the sound system. He didn’t think about the fact that this was the first night of his band’s new gig. The Cairo. The casino they’d all wanted to play in, back…was it already nearly six weeks ago? Six weeks. It didn’t seem possible that he’d been back that long, but at the same time, it seemed an eternity. A lifetime ago. And then there were times, especially in the early hours of the morning, when he was just lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, that everything that had happened seemed like a dream. Aliens, spaceships, Eve. All a fantastic, unbelievable dream. “Lee,” Bert said from beside him. “Are you okay?” Leandros blinked, then released the death grip he had on the mic. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just need…” He needed Eve. “I just need a drink,” he said instead. Bert nodded. But from his worried frown, Leandros got the feeling that his friend didn’t really buy the excuse. Bert, Stig and Hagassi had all worn the same expression over the past weeks: concern laced with dismay. Leandros knew he hadn’t been acting like himself, like the dude who’d left them at the Starlight that night before everything changed. Leandros jumped down from the stage to walk to the nearly empty bar. The place wouldn’t be packed until after nine p.m. After they were on stage performing. www.samhainpublishing.com
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“I’ll have a whiskey. Straight up.” The bartender, a woman who fit the image of the Cairo with her long straight black hair, heavy mascara, and gold armband around her biceps, smiled. Leandros sat on one of the barstools, watching his friends getting ready for tonight. They chatted and grinned and looked excited about tonight’s set. According to their agent, a music producer might be there tonight. That had been the band’s dream. It had been his dream, too. Once. But not now. Not since that night he’d woken up in his bed, wondering if he’d dreamed such a vivid, crazy, life-altering experience. He heard the bartender set a glass on the bar behind him, and turned to thank her. He reached for his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans, but the woman shook her head. “It’s on me, handsome.” She grinned, revealing straight white teeth and a naughty glint in her dark eyes. There was a time he’d have flirted back. It wouldn’t have even dawned on him not to. He’d have flirted with her all evening and then asked her to join him after the set. They’d have gone out for drinks, or dinner. Or more than likely, they would have just skipped all of that and gone straight to bed. But the woman’s dark eyes weren’t the dark eyes he ached to see. And her smile wasn’t both naughty and sweet at the same time. No. He had to stop this. It had been six weeks. He had to move on. He considered giving the bartender one of his standard sly smiles. But then he simply nodded. “Thanks.” He took a deep swallow of the amber liquid and turned back to the room. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to. He wanted to fall back into his normal life. He wanted to forget. But he couldn’t. Eve haunted him constantly. He took another drink of his whiskey, hoping the strong liquor would calm the restlessness inside him. He alternated between agitation and emptiness, and he couldn’t keep going on like this. Go to her.
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He emptied his glass, trying to push the thought aside. He couldn’t do that. Even the night he’d arrived back from the spaceship to discover he was in his own bed on the very same night he’d left, he hadn’t been able to contact her. He’d gotten out of bed and gone directly to the phone. But as he held the receiver and started dialing the numbers that had disappeared from his arm, but that he’d committed to memory, he stopped. It had still been the middle of the night, even in New England. She was probably back in her bed. In bed with her fiancé. With Barry. He’d hung up the phone, and gone back to bed. He hadn’t slept, he’d just lain there, feeling Eve on his skin. Smelling her. Tasting her on his lips. But he hadn’t picked up the phone again to call her. He had called Beau, just yesterday. His drummer, Hagassi, was the techno geek of the band, and he’d found the number on the internet. But Beau hadn’t been there. His brother, Dwight, had answered. He said that Beau had cracked and he didn’t know where the hell he’d gone. Leandros knew he’d gone to Cassie. He felt good to know that Beau and Cassie were going to be together. But then he’d never doubted what those two had was real. Just like he’d known all along that Eve needed something real. Something more than great sex. She was back in her life now, and he was certain that she’d realized that what had happened to between them hadn’t been real. It was nothing more than a good show. A great performance. And that he didn’t understand anything else. For a split second, he allowed himself to think about the last time they’d been together, in the disco scenario. He’d touched her, whispered to her, and in a few stolen moments when he’d given her a secret orgasm, they’d performed only for each other. But almost as soon as he thought it, he shoved it away. There was no point thinking about that. A few precious moments didn’t make a relationship. They weren’t something to change your life over. To change everything you were. Even in their secret moments, the aliens had been watching them. They’d been putting on a show. He’d been putting on a show for Eve.
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After all, in the end, that’s what he was, right? A performer. And the only thing real to him was his next show. His next great gig. Eve wanted more than that. Someone who could care for her like she deserved. “Can I get another?” Leandros turned and raised his glass. “Dude, what are you doing?” Hagassi sat down on the stool next to him. Leandros frowned at his friend. “What?” Hagassi nodded at the new drink the bartender set beside him. “I’m celebrating our new venue.” The words sounded false, even to himself. “You’ve never been the celebrate alone type. And frankly, dude, you look like shit. What’s going on?” Leandros didn’t answer. Instead he took another drink of whiskey. The liquor wasn’t helping the ache inside him, but it kept him from having to answer his friend’s question. “C’mon, Lee, we’ve been friends for years.” Hagassi took the whiskey out of his hand and set it aside. “I know something is wrong.” Leandros regarded his friend for a moment. Could he tell him about what happened? All of it? No. The guys would think he’d gone insane. But he did ask, “Do you ever wonder if there is more to life?” “Than what?” “Than this,” he gestured to the room. “Late night gigs in smoky bars, nameless women and partying.” Hagassi glanced around. “Not really.” Leandros nodded. He’d guessed as much. After all, this was who he was. Who his friends were. This was his life. “Yeah, me neither,” he said with a decisive nod. “I’m just in a weird place at the moment. It’ll pass.” Hagassi nodded, although yet again, Leandros got the feeling his friend didn’t believe him. “Listen, we’re nearly done setting up. Let’s go to the buffet for a bite.”
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Leandros nodded, but didn’t move off the barstool. “I’ll meet you guys.” Hagassi hesitated, but then said, “Okay. See you in a bit.” Leandros watched as the band disappeared out of the bar, then he turned back to his drink. He had to let this all go. He had to. He was going to make himself nuts. After all, Eve hadn’t contacted him either. That told him as much as he needed to know. She was with Barry. She didn’t want him. “Leandros.” He started at the soft voice behind him. Eve? He spun to find Betty standing there. His number one fan. Something was different about her. Her hair was shorter. Or maybe longer? Lighter? He didn’t really know. “Betty,” he greeted her. “How are you?” That was the question of the day, wasn’t it? “Not bad. And you?” “Not bad either.” She shifted slightly in her knee-high black boots. Silence stretched between them. “I haven’t seen you around much,” Leandros finally said. Betty had been a regular at most of the band’s gigs. But he hadn’t seen her at all since… Betty laughed, the sound harsh and humorless. “Yes, well, I’m rather slow on the uptake, but once I get it, I do get it.” He frowned. What was she talking about? She stared at him for a moment, her lips curved upward in a semblance of a smile, but it didn’t chase away the bleakness in her pale eyes. “Don’t worry about it, Leandros, I do get it. I thought we could have had something special. Something real. But you never thought that. I get that now.” His frown deepened at her words. Something real. For the first time, he really saw Betty. Not as the groupie who’d come to all of his gigs. Not as the chick that he’d nailed once, and then she’d hung around hoping he’d see
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her as more than an easy one-night stand. Not as the rather pathetic girl who wanted his attention so desperately that she practically begged him for it. He saw her as a woman, who had genuinely cared about him. And he’d offered her nothing. Nothing real. Not even a real friendship. He’d treated her like a part of his show biz life. His fan. A prop, no more important than his mic stand or favorite outfit. When he didn’t speak, she took a deep breath, then said softly, “Well, good to see you.” She turned to walk away. “Betty.” She stopped and looked back at him. “I want you to know that I realize I wasn’t very nice to you. And you deserved better than that. I’m sorry.” She tilted her head, and he could tell she was trying to decide if he was sincere or just drunk. Finally, she nodded. “Thanks.” “You want to join me for a drink?” he asked, gesturing to the stool beside him. She shook her head. “I can’t. I have to get to work. I’ve got a new job here. I’m managing one of the restaurants.” “Really? That’s great.” He smiled. She smiled back, then waved. He watched her leave the bar and wondered how he’d treated her the way he had.
“Damn.” Stig leaned over to Leandros as they headed into the next song of the set. “This crowd is hot. They are fucking eating us up!” Leandros pushed back his sweat-dampened hair and squinted against the bright, colored stage lights, trying to see the audience. He could hear the applause and see the people right in the front. Mainly women watching him with hungry, appreciative eyes. Looks that he once would have fed off. Looks that once would have spurred on a more intense performance.
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Again he thought of Eve. The look on her face the last time he’d made love to her. Hungry. Appreciative. Definitely spurring him on. But not like this. Eve wasn’t like this. She was so much more. So, so much more important than anything else had ever been. “Maybe we should slow it down a little,” Bert came over to say. “This crowd is wet for Lee. Sing a slow one. It’ll kill ’em.” Leandros nodded, not even really registering what he was agreeing to. Stig and Bert faced off with each other, strumming out a slower tune. Hagassi followed them easily, his drums joining in, setting the tempo. Even the crowd cheered as they recognized the song. But Leandros still didn’t pick out the tune. It was as if his band and the audience was one, and he was totally separate. He frowned at Stig, shaking his head to say he wasn’t following them. Stig nodded to Bert, and they started again. Leandros still frowned, shaking his head. “‘Rocket Man,’” Stig mouthed to him. Leandros nodded, turning back to the mic. Right, “Rocket Man.” A song he knew backwards and forwards. A song he’d sung in the shower hundreds of times… Even on a rocket ship. He missed the intro again, but started halfway through the second verse. As he sang, the song resonated with him. He wasn’t who his bandmates thought he was. Not any more. He wasn’t just a performer. He was…well, he wasn’t sure what he was. But he did know he was shit without Eve. “I’m not just a fuckin’ prop,” he said suddenly into the mic. Stig and Bert’s playing hesitated, but the audience cheered and they continued on. Leandros looked at them, then at Hagassi. He held his hands up at his sides and said into the mic. “I’m sorry, guys. I can’t do this. I have to go.” He started to walk off the stage, but Stig followed him, catching his arm. “What are you doing?” “I can’t do this. I have to go find her.” “Who?” Bert asked.
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“Her name is Eve and she is the fuckin’ love of my life.” Hagassi had joined them. “Okay, that’s cool, man. But we only have to make it through another set. Then we’ll all go find her.” Leandros hesitated, then nodded. He couldn’t ruin his buddies’ chances at the casino, because he’d finally made up his mind to stop hiding behind his performances and start living. “Where is Eve?” Bert asked as they headed back to the center of the stage. “Boston.” “Boston?” Stig repeated. Leandros nodded. “Where’d you meet her? Here?” “No, on a spaceship,” Leandros said, matter-of-factly. His band stared at him. “Man, I hope you’re talking about a carnival ride.” Hagassi shook his head and walked back to his drum set. Stig started into “Space Oddity” by David Bowie. But the band, true to their word, talked to the club owner after the set, explaining that Leandros had a family emergency, which needed his immediate attention. Then they loaded their van and headed east. Boston or bust.
“This is it,” Hagassi said, pointing to the brick townhouse nestled amongst others on a picturesque cobble-stoned street. Leandros stared at the three-story rowhouse, suddenly unsure he could do this. The outside of the beautiful, old house screamed of a lifestyle he didn’t know or understand. A lifestyle he’d never wanted until he’d met Eve. “Well, get out,” Stig said, after they pulled up to the curb and Leandros continued to sit in the front seat, staring at the building. “I didn’t just drive through seven hours of road construction in Connecticut for you to just look at her place.”
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Leandros sat with his hand on the door handle, trying to decide what exactly to say. He’d considered many things over the two and half day drive. But all those things to say, some pretty good, some terrible, disappeared from his head. “Go,” Bert said from a makeshift bed in the back. “Now.” Leandros glanced at his friends. Exhausted, road-weary friends. Great friends. He nodded and opened the door. He walked up to the front door, and again paused. He was more nervous about this moment than any other time in his life. Even his very first audition for a band. But he took in a deep breath and pressed the doorbell. He waited, not hearing any noise from the other side of the door. He lifted his hand to ring again when he heard the muffled thump of footsteps. Distinctively male footsteps. Leandros closed his eyes briefly. In his mental scenarios on the drive here, he had imagined what he’d do if it was Barry who opened the door, but still he wasn’t ready to deal with this meeting. Hell, if he wasn’t sure what he was going to say to Eve, what could he say to her fiancé? Hey there, buddy. You should probably know that I screwed your woman like seventy-five or a hundred times. Sorry. The door opened. And Leandros was face-to-face with Barry. Well, nearly face-toface. Barry was several inches shorter. The first thing Leandros noticed was that Barry didn’t look like the geek he’d imagined all these weeks. In fact, Barry was rather GQ with a short, but stylish haircut and athletic build. The realization that Barry was a good-looking guy didn’t help Leandros in the least. Especially since Leandros had been in a van for nearly three days. “Can I help you?” Barry asked, and Leandros realized he’d been staring. “Uh, yeah.” Leandros shifted, smoothing his wrinkled crushed velvet suitcoat. “I’m looking for Eve Green.” Barry rocked back on his heels, regarding him more closely. “Eve isn’t here.” “Oh.”
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Leandros stood there for a moment, feeling a little deflated. The whole trip had built up to this moment, and she wasn’t here. He swiped a hand through his hair. “Do—do you know when she’ll be back?” Barry crossed his arms over his broad, polo shirt clad chest. “Actually I don’t expect her back.” Leandros frowned. Not coming back? Huh? Was that this guy’s way of getting rid of him? “Okay,” Leandros nodded. “Thanks.” He started down the concrete steps to the sidewalk, when Barry’s words stopped him. “I think she went to look for you.” Leandros turned back. “Me?” “You are Leandros Maradoupolis, aren’t you?” “Yeah.” “I talked to her briefly the day before yesterday. She was about to catch a plane to Las Vegas. She was going to look for you.” Leandros shook his head and chuckled, more in amazement than humor, both at the quirk of fate that had him and Eve the same distance apart from each other, and by Barry’s willingness to share this information with him. “Do you love her?” Barry asked. Leandros’s smile faded. “More than anything.” Barry nodded, then sighed. “She’s a wonderful woman.” “I know.” Barry nodded again. Leandros opened his mouth to say something, to apologize for what had happened, to tell this guy that he hadn’t meant it to. But the words seemed so inadequate. After all, no words would pacify him if someone took Eve from him. It would kill him. “She told me everything.”
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Leandros met the other man’s direct gaze. “Then you know it was rather— unexpected.” Barry smiled then, lifting a wry eyebrow. “I suppose no one ever plans on alien abduction.” Leandros nodded. He shifted, trying to decide what else to say. He was sure this guy didn’t buy Eve’s explanation. God knew, he wouldn’t if he hadn’t been there. “But,” Barry said, “the breakup wasn’t unexpected. Eve wasn’t in love with me. She loves me, but she wasn’t in love. I knew that. But she didn’t feel right ending things because they were ‘just okay’. Eve’s very sensible and principled that way. Don’t tell her I said that. She thinks she’s the unconventional one.” Leandros agreed with a slight smile, then waited for Barry to continue, to tell him what he desperately wanted to hear. Barry slipped his hands in his pants pockets. “She’s living on the South End now. A small loft off Tremont Street. I can get you the exact address.” “That would be great,” Leandros said quietly. “Thank you.” “Sure. Just make her happy, okay?” “I plan to,” Leandros said.
“Okay, so the plan is to just wait in the van?” Stig asked and didn’t sound particularly happy about the idea. “Yes,” Leandros said. He didn’t want to wait at the hotel. He wanted to be right there when Eve got back. He wanted to pull her into his arms, kiss her senseless and tell her that they were perfect for each other. Totally perfect. In a very un-sensible, unprincipled and unconventional way. Okay, he might not say that. He ran a hand through his hair, pleased that at least he felt semi-human after the long trip. He’d showered and the guys had gone out and bought new jeans and T-shirts. Now all he had to do was wait.
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“You know,” he said, “I can drop you guys off at the hotel, then I can come back and wait.” “Nah,” said Bert as he picked out a tune on a guitar. “I gotta stay and see this chick.” “Me too,” Hagassi agreed. “Well, I’m ordering a pizza,” Stig said, clearly annoyed to be outvoted. He grabbed his cell and dialed information. “There was a liquor store on the corner,” Hagassi said. “I’m getting some beer.” “Want me to go with you?” Leandros asked. “And potentially miss your woman’s return? No way. I’ll be back.” “Do we have any idea when she might be back?” Stig asked, the cell phone still pressed to his ear. “No,” Leandros said, stretching his long legs across the back of the van, looking out the opened back doors. “Hi yeah,” Stig said into the phone. “I just ordered two large pepperoni pizzas. You’d better make that three.”
Sinking back against the vinyl seats of the Boston taxi, Eve closed her eyes and tried not to cry. She’d just spent the last day and a half searching Las Vegas for Leandros and for all practical purposes he’d disappeared. She’d gone to his apartment, but he wasn’t there. She’d gone to the Starlight, but he hadn’t performed there for weeks. One of the waitresses said she heard that Leandros’s band got a new gig at The Cairo. But when she got there, the assistant manager of the bar said he’d left town in a hurry. She had no chance of finding him now. And even if he didn’t want her, which it was apparent he didn’t, she still wanted answers. She’d been so certain that last night in the disco that he’d wanted to tell her more. To tell her that he loved her. She’d really believed it. But now, after no word for weeks, she’d started to believe she’d imagined the connection between them.
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Okay, she hadn’t imagined her connection. Her body ached for him. At night, she’d awake thinking she heard him singing in the other room. Or she smelled his scent, warm and masculine, only to discover she was alone. Alone. As much as she’d feared being alone, in some ways, that had been good for her. She’d needed a little time to sort out her thoughts and all the emotions that had come with splitting up from Barry. But now she wondered if she’d blown things with Leandros by not contacting him right away after they’d escaped. She hadn’t called the first week, because she’d been busy trying to make Barry understand. Not an easy thing to do. “Honey, I know it appears as if I’ve been in bed with you all night, but really I’ve been having days’ and days’ worth of sex with another man on a spaceship for the entertainment of aliens. Oh, and I fell in love with the guy.” Barry had accepted her story far better than she’d expected. Although she hadn’t said it quite like that. And in the end, Eve got the feeling that Barry wanted out too, and he was just accepting her weird story, because it allowed them to part. Funny, she’d only known she wasn’t satisfied. She’d never realized Barry wasn’t either. So she supposed that even if she never saw Leandros again, he had done her a favor. And Barry too. She could hold onto that. It wasn’t much comfort though. Not when she knew what she and Leandros could have had together. “We’re here,” the taxi driver said and Eve opened her eyes and fumbled with her purse. She handed the driver his money, then slid out of the car. The sidewalk flowed with a steady stream of people. It was…Saturday. All the days were blurring together, she thought tiredly. “Thanks,” she said to the driver as he set her suitcase on the curb. She arranged her purse and carry-on over her shoulder, then she struggled with the handle of her suitcase, rolling it over the uneven concrete of the sidewalk.
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Voices of people enjoying their day off surrounded her. The laughter of a child. The faint sound of a guitar. Singing. The lyrics something about being the next to be with you. She took a couple more steps, then stopped. That voice. She looked around, then took in a deep, calming breath. She really was losing it. She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. She lifted the suitcase and started toward her building. But again that voice reached her over the din of the busy street. She glanced around and there he was. Lounging in the back of a beat-up black van, his long legs crossed, holding a beer bottle against his flat stomach, looking for all the world like it was the most normal thing for him to be hanging out outside her place, singing. Then he turned and their eyes met and her breath was knocked right out of her chest. God, how could she have even remotely forgotten the impact of those dark, smoldering eyes. He set down his beer and got out of the van, walking straight to her. The next thing she knew, he had her pulled tight against him, and his lips were devouring her. And she was devouring him in return. “My God, Eve,” Leandros finally said, his voice breathless and so sexy. “I have missed you.” She gazed up at him, touching his cheeks, his lips, the dimple in his chin. “I went to find you.” “And I came to find you.” They both laughed, then they were kissing again. “So this is Eve?” a voice said from behind them. They both turned and Eve saw three men standing there. One was bald with a goatee, the other was broad with thick curling hair cut in a shaggy-looking bowl-cut, and the third guy was thin, holding a guitar, and he looked a little drunk.
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“Yes, this is Eve.” Leandros hugged her tight to his side. “And this is the band.” He introduced them, but it was hard to pay attention with Leandros’s large hand stroking the small of her back. Fortunately, the one with the goatee—Hagassi—seemed to sense that they needed to be alone. “Come on, guys, let’s go back to the hotel.” They loaded into the van, but not before Stig, or maybe it was Sting, pronounced they needed more beer. And pizza. Then Leandros turned her back in his arms and kissed her again. “Damn, I could just stand here and do that all day,” he murmured against her lips. “Me too. But I think we are gathering an audience.” He glanced around, and indeed passersby were slowing down to watch them. “Well, this isn’t for anyone else’s eyes but ours,” he said adamantly and reached for her suitcase. Eve laced her fingers through his free hand and led him toward her building. They went through the front door and across the corridor to the elevator. Eve punched a button. As they waited she looked at him again. So tall and strong and beautiful. He was watching her too, his face serious. What had he come to find her for? She knew one reason. They’d be tearing off each other’s clothes as soon as they got to her loft. But after that, what? “Leandros—” she said, but the elevator came. She pulled open its old-fashioned folding metal gate and they stepped inside. Inside the elevator his warmth and his scent and everything about him was even closer. Sort of like how it had been in the blue tube that first time. Desire pounded through her body, as insistent as her heartbeat. “I haven’t been able to ride on this elevator without thinking about having sex with you in it,” she said.
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It was true. But she regretted it as soon as she’d said it. Because sex wasn’t the only thing she wanted Leandros for. And she had to stop pretending that it ever had been the only thing. “I mean—” she started, but then the elevator stopped. She wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or annoyed. She pulled open the gate again and he followed her out, carrying her suitcase. Her loft was across the hallway. She felt the weight of his silence and his eyes on her as she unlocked the door with shaking hands. She stepped inside, and he stepped in after her. She closed the door after him. Leandros stood just inside the door looking around the loft. She saw it through his eyes—the unfinished walls, the unsanded floor, the folding chairs and card table she’d been using as furniture. The packed boxes. The pictures, still in their wrapping, propped against the walls. “How long have you been living here?” he asked, his voice quiet. “About a month,” she answered. “I—haven’t got around to unpacking yet.” He turned his gaze on her. “You redecorated the spaceship within a week.” She shrugged, feeling herself blush. “I’ve been trying to make myself feel more temporary about things,” she said. “Why?” His eyes were dark and deep. “I—” She swallowed. “I know I’m a nester. I’ve always craved permanence, since I lost my family. And I—” She hesitated and then just let it out in a rush. “I wanted to be more like somebody that you would want to be with.” He smiled. “You’d do that for me?” “I’d do anything for you.” She bit her lip. “It has been driving me crazy though. This brickwork is really ugly.” Leandros threw back his head and laughed. He pulled her to him. “I’ve been doing nothing but thinking about how I can be somebody you’d want to be with.” He dropped a gentle kiss on her lips, his face serious now. “I couldn’t call you. I knew I didn’t have anything to offer you. I’ve never done a relationship before.”
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She gazed up at him, examining his features. He had lost weight. He looked tired, as if he’d been pushing himself too hard, or thinking too much. And those dark shadows under his eyes. He’d been scared, she realized. Her wild, sexy, arrogant Leandros. Her heart melted, and she smiled. “I think we should both just be ourselves,” she said. His arms tightened around her. “That would be good. Really good.” He pushed her hair back from her face and stroked her cheek tenderly. “Do you realize this is the first time we’ve ever been alone together?” he said. Eve laughed. “Wow. Yeah, it is.” “I like it a lot.” He swept her off her feet up into his arms and Eve sighed with the bliss of being held by him, aloft, her face close to his and her body pressed against his chest. “Where’s your bedroom?” She pointed and he carried her across the loft and through the door, hesitating as soon as he entered the room. “You really were trying to be temporary,” he said, taking in the bedroom, empty except for the sheet-covered mattress on the floor. “I wanted to start over.” He set her down on the mattress, then went to the big windows and pulled down the blinds. “Okay,” he said, and knelt down beside her. “Let’s both start over. Go somewhere new. Be together.” She nodded. “That’s exactly what I want,” she said. “I also want to touch you. I know we have more to talk about, but I’ve been going crazy without you. I’d been with you every moment. I had my legs around you and you were inside me. And then nothing. You were gone.” “We can touch and talk at the same time,” he said, smiling. “Though as you know I can’t promise my words are going to be very intelligent once you get your hands on me.” “I’ll take my chances,” she said, and reached up to push his velvet jacket off his shoulders. He helped her remove it, and then he reached ’round to unzip her dress as she worked on the buttons of his shirt.
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“Shit, my hands are shaking,” he said, with a breathless laugh, and she realized why she couldn’t get his buttons open. “Mine too.” In fact, she was trembling all over. She put a hand on his chest and felt his shallow breaths through his shirt, his fast heartbeat. She met his eyes and saw a depth of emotion in them that made her catch her breath. Leandros leaned down and captured her mouth in a slow, deep, passionate kiss. She didn’t stop shaking, but with her attention on his kiss her fingers could work by themselves and she felt his shirt parting so she could slide her hands over the warm skin of his chest. The firm muscles, the crisp hair. He finished unzipping her dress and pushed it down over her shoulders and hips. Never stopping kissing her, he pushed her panties down, unclasped her bra, tossed it aside, and then he kissed a trail down her throat and down the swell of one breast. When he took her nipple in his mouth she gasped. God, she’d needed this. She’d needed him. She was crazy to think she could live without him, to think that she really had been living without him these six weeks. She’d been merely breathing. It was only with him that she was alive. His mouth and hands on her breasts were incredible. His face was clean-shaven, but his skin was still rougher than hers. “I want to be naked with you,” she murmured, tugging at his belt. Somehow she got it open and his jeans unzipped and she was working them down his hips when he stopped her. “Let me help you, baby,” he said against her skin, and he took his hands away from her to pull off his jeans. She had to bite her lip at the sight of his body, at the wave of desire and love that hit her. He put his arms around her and drew her down to lie next to him on the mattress, on their sides facing each other. The heat from his body felt wonderful. He trailed a slow, gentle hand over her, touching her with only his fingertips from shoulder to waist to hip, and then back upwards. She watched his eyes follow his hand, as if he were savoring every inch of her. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I want to touch you all over.”
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She put her own hands on him and explored him as he explored her. Every part of his body was familiar to her, and yet new, after this time of being apart. In this first time of being alone, on Earth. She watched as she felt all the textures of him: the smooth skin of his shoulders, the soft hair of his chest and the thin trail that led down his stomach, the firmness of his stomach muscles and the shallow indent of his belly button, the hard bones of his hip, and finally the hot hardness of his erection. He groaned when she touched him, sliding her fingers up the hard ridge on the underside of his cock and over the head, feeling the drop of pre-come at his tip. And she wanted to touch him more, but suddenly Eve knew she couldn’t do this without saying what she had to. She couldn’t make love with him again without him knowing all of her feelings. She wanted to be open with him, open to him, giving him everything. She took her hands away from his cock; she didn’t want any distraction from her words. Instead, she held his face in her hands and looked steadily into his dark eyes. “I love you, Leandros,” she said. His eyes widened and she saw his lips part. For a moment, he was motionless. Then he closed his eyes, and she felt him take in a deep, shuddering breath. “Oh, Eve,” he whispered, and pulled her tight to him and buried his face in her neck. He held her so close she couldn’t see anything or feel anything except for him. His heartbeat was so strong it shook her. Then she realized it was him, too; he was still trembling. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting him to do when she told him this. She’d feared he’d run for the door; she hoped he’d tell her he loved her too. She definitely hadn’t expected this, for him to just hold her so close, as if he were trying to make her part of him. Trying to ensure that he’d never have to let her go. “Leandros?” she said. She felt him draw in another breath, and then he pulled back from her enough so she could see his face. His eyes were bright and she saw, with surprise, that they had tears in them.
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“I—I never thought I’d want—” he said, and swallowed. “I didn’t think I could—oh, damn, Eve, I’m so happy.” He kissed her, hard. She kissed him back and arched herself against him, wrapping her leg around his hip and loving the way his body fit with hers. His erection pressed into her belly, heavy and long. “I need to be inside you, baby,” he muttered roughly, moving his hands down to cup her buttocks. “I need to be inside you and fucking you slowly with you saying that to me again.” “Yes,” she gasped and moved herself up so his cock was between her legs. It rubbed tantalizingly against the wet lips of her pussy before he found her entrance and slid, slowly, in. Inch by inch until he was fully inside her. He held her steady and just as slowly slid back out again, then in, even deeper. “Jesus, you feel perfect,” he groaned, clutching her ass harder. She kissed his top lip and then his bottom lip. Nibbled at it with her teeth. Felt every exquisite movement of him within her, stretching her. There were so many details of making love to him that she’d not precisely forgotten, but that she’d lost the reality of in the six weeks since she’d seen him. Like how his hips twisted just slightly at the end of his stroke. Like how his nostrils flared as he drew in breath, how his eyes softened, got darker. His hair-roughened thigh on the inside of her leg. The incredibly arousing scent of his sweat beginning to sheen his body. How every part of her felt not only right, but perfect, when she was with him. “I love you,” she told him again and felt his cock jerk inside her. She tasted his lips with her tongue and then said, “I tried calling you in Vegas. I wanted to hear your voice. I could never get through.” “I was pretty much drowning my sorrows,” he said. “It wasn’t a good thing. Right now, I need to get deeper inside you. I’ve been dreaming about your sweet body for weeks.” He rolled so he was on top of her and Eve felt his cock penetrating her even further. She wrapped her legs around his hips to hold him, let him take her. He started up his
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steady, slow rhythm again. She could feel every movement of his body, every bit of friction. The root of his cock rubbing against her clit, his fingertips digging into her hips. His chest hair rasped against her breasts and when she looked down she could see his beautiful body, the top of his cock when he pulled out of her. “I’ve been an idiot for most of my life,” he said, still thrusting into her, touching her womb with every stroke. “I’ve wanted people to pay attention to me, to watch me. I didn’t think about how to get them to care about me. I never wanted anybody to care about me. Until you.” “I care.” She cried out as he moved up his hands and palmed her breasts. It was all so good, his body inside her and around her, his scent in her lungs, his dark eyes burning into her. Her body shuddered, tightened, and she knew she was going to come, and soon. “Come,” he told her. His breath was hot on her, sweet. “Do you remember when I made you come in secret? We were pretending to be alone. We’re really alone now, baby. Just you and me. Come.” He didn’t speed up the pace of his thrusts. Just kept on going, slow and wonderful. Two more long, wet, leisurely strokes, and the pleasure overwhelmed her. She tightened her legs around his hips, arched up against him, and screamed. Her orgasm didn’t stop. It just reached a peak and then another one, as he quickened his movements. Leandros kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her mouth, each kiss tender and reverent. Every motion of his body coaxed her further into ecstasy. “Leandros,” she gasped. “Fuck me harder. Go wild, lover.” His name on her lips seemed to release something in him. With a cry he drove into her harder, faster, still deeper. Eve braced her hands behind her head on the wall and pushed herself against him to meet every stroke with her body. More and more and more until his body stiffened, she felt his cock pulse inside her, and heard him rasp out a rough cry from deep in his belly as his hot come jetted inside her. He collapsed onto her. His breathing was ragged. She clung to his damp, heaving body. The most precious person in the world to her.
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He was still breathing hard when he propped himself up on his arm and looked down at her face. “Marry me,” he said. She stopped. Everything stopped. She just stared at him. He stared back. “I just said that, didn’t I?” She nodded. “Yes, you did.” He frowned. Then smiled. Then smiled some more, bright enough to light up her whole world. “I really did,” he said. With a swift movement, he pulled out of her and launched himself off the mattress and onto his knees beside it on the floor. He took her hand in his. Eve sat up, dazed, hardly able to believe this was happening. Although it was obvious Leandros was just as surprised as she was. But he was enjoying it hugely. He kissed her hand and beamed at her. “Will you marry me?” he asked. “And love me and live with me and move somewhere with me to start a new life? I want to be your family. I want to give you a family. Mine. Ours. I want us to have babies.” He looked at her with a worried frown on his face. “You do want babies, right?” She laughed. She couldn’t help it. She nodded. “Am I going too fast?” She laughed again, but shook her head. “I haven’t got a ring because I only just figured out I wanted to do it,” he explained. “And I’ve been in a van for three days.” “I don’t need a ring,” she said. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.” “Yes!” He threw himself back onto the mattress and gathered her up to him. He kissed her. His body was still hot from their lovemaking, and she could feel that his cock was already hardening. And she wanted him again. And again. Over and over, forever.
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He broke the kiss to look into her face. His eyes were dark and deep as her own. He stroked his hand over her hair and she knew she would savor his every touch for the rest of their lives. “I love you, baby,” he said. And began to make love to her again.
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Epilogue
“I need a piss,” Bert said. “And I need a frozen yogurt,” added Stig. “And I’m sick of this fucking construction.” Hagassi looked in the rear-view mirror. “And of watching you two horn dogs making out in the back seat.” “Sorry,” said Eve, though she didn’t really mean it. She tried sitting up straight, away from Leandros’s body, but it didn’t last long before she was leaning over and nibbling the soft rim of his ear. “Jesus!” Hagassi swerved the van sharply to the right. “Hey,” protested Leandros, after he’d caught Eve who’d been flung into him by the movement. “Careful with the van and the woman, man. They’re both mine.” “Not once we drop you off in New York, dude,” said Stig. “The van, I mean. Not that you’re—I mean, I’d have you too, Eve, if Leandros wouldn’t kill me.” “Thanks,” said Eve, choosing to take that as a compliment. Leandros’s band were great—fun, laid back, and talented. And even better, they cared about him. To the extent that they were genuinely okay about the idea of going back to Vegas without their lead singer. Hagassi stopped the van and threw it into park. Eve looked out the window and saw they were in a rest area off the Connecticut highway. “Right,” Hagassi told them, “I’m going in, I’m getting a double cheeseburger, and when I get back out, the two of you better still be dressed.” “No problem,” said Leandros, “Eve’s dress is pretty easy access.” Hagassi groaned and opened the van door. The band paused as they got out. “What the hell is that sound?” asked Bert. A bone-shivering howl reverberated through the parking lot. 300
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Close Encounters
“What the hell is that?” asked Stig. Eve and Leandros scrambled out of the back of the van. Stig was pointing at an old red pickup truck parked a couple spaces down in the corner of the lot. A big, brown leggy dog with floppy ears and a huge nose was sitting in the flatbed, his head raised, his jowls quivering as he emitted one heartbreaking howl after another. “You think he’s okay?” Eve asked. “Maybe his owner’s gettin’ it on in the cab and he feels left out,” Leandros suggested, nudging Hagassi. “That truck’s rocking all over the place.” “Jesus Christ, you people are obsessed,” said Hagassi, disgusted, and walked away. The door opened and a petite black-haired woman tumbled out, laughing and adjusting her cotton dress. “My God,” Leandros said, “is that Cassie?” A long-haired man with a goatee followed the woman out of the car, kissed her swiftly, and then reached up to scruff the dog. That confirmed it. Both Eve and Leandros raced across the parking lot to their friends. “What the hell are they doing?” Stig asked. Bert shrugged. “Maybe horny people are just drawn together.” “Dude!” cried Leandros. He grabbed the unsuspecting Beau and swept him up off his feet in a huge hug. Shit, thought Beau, dazed. What was happening? Why was he in the air? Was he being abducted again? Then he saw the face of the tall man hugging him and grabbed his shoulder in delight. “Leandros!” he cried. “Whoa, man, what are you doing in Connecticut?” When Leandros finally set him down, he saw Eve beside them, hugging Cassie. Leandros clapped him on the back. “What you doing up here in New England, southern boy?” “I came to get my woman,” Beau stated. “Excellent, me too,” Leandros said.
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Beau watched as Cassie and Eve hugged. “I’m so glad you two found each other,” said Cassie. “Yeah, we’re getting married.” Eve beamed. Beau whooped and ran to give Eve a big hug. “Beau and I aren’t,” said Cassie. “We’re going to live in sin.” She pronounced the words with relish. “Yeah, but I’ll make an honest woman of you one day,” Beau said. “We’re going to college first,” he explained to Leandros and Eve. “In Hartford.” “Beau’s going to be the best vet in all of U.S.” Cassie smiled broadly, pride in her green eyes. Although Beau knew she’d be as proud of him if he’d stayed a mechanic. “And Cassie is going to be the best counselor in the world,” Beau vowed. They kissed. “They’re so cute,” Eve said to Leandros. Boo howled. “And we’re going to find Boo a girlfriend.” Cassie patted the dog. “Very, very soon,” said Beau. Being serenaded while having sex got to be real old, real fast. Two guys, one broad and one thin, came up to them. “Hey, these are my bandmates, Stig and Bert,” said Leandros. “You guys know each other, huh?” Stig asked. Leandros gave the two of them a look. Stig frowned. “Oh, right. Co-abductees on the alien spaceship. Got it. Okay, I’m going in to get a frozen yogurt.” The two guys walked away. The two couples fell into step behind them. “So,” Eve said to Beau and Cassie, “have you guys told anybody about the spaceship yet?” “I did,” said Cassie. “My parents thought I was delusional and that Beau and I met on the internet.”
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“You can pretty much tell my bandmates’ reaction,” Leandros said. “They keep on talking about anal probes and little green men. Stig won’t stop playing the tune from Star Trek.” “There’s no point in telling my family,” Beau said. “They’d just think I was high.” He considered it. “Actually, I was high. Like light years.” “I told Barry. That’s my ex-fiancé. I don’t think he believed me. But he was polite enough not to tell me so.” “Are you okay?” Cassie asked. Eve looked at Leandros and smiled. “I’ve never been better.” “Me too,” Cassie said, hugging Beau’s arm. “Where are you two going, anyway?” “We’re on our way to Broadway!” Leandros danced up the steps to the building. “I’ve got an audition, baby, and we’re going to live the high life in New York!” “Really?” “Really,” Eve confirmed. “And I’ve got some contacts in New York who are going to set me up with work. Maybe even some stage design. We’re going to give it a shot.” The four of them went inside and found a table next to Bert, Stig, and a bearded guy who Beau figured was another band member. “It doesn’t really matter if anybody believes us about the spaceship,” Leandros said. “We know it was real. Just like we know what’s happening now is real.” “One thing, though,” said Cassie. “Do you think that the aliens are still around? That they might try to get us back?” “I don’t think they will,” Beau said. “Lubda was pretty determined to set us free.” “I hope Lubda didn’t get in trouble for that.” A line of worry crossed Eve’s face. “Well we weren't good candidates anyway. Not for what they wanted. We are too into each other.” Leandros kissed Eve. “After that one switch, they had to know they screwed up.” “Ugh, don’t even talk about it.” Cassie blushed, burying her face into Beau’s chest. “Yeah, man, let’s never talk about that again,” Beau stated. “Agreed.” The men shook hands on it.
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“And we really had a lucky escape with those Wild West holograms,” Leandros said. “I thought for sure I was going to be walking bow-legged for weeks.” “Huh?” Cassie frowned, confused. Beau glanced over to the next table. Leandros’s three bandmates were staring at them, their food halfway to their mouths. “Shit,” said the skinny one. “You really were abducted by aliens weren’t you?” Leandros nodded. “Broadway, marriage, college, and true love.” Beau hugged Cassie against him. “I tell you what, those aliens were the best damned thing that ever happened to any of us.”
Nisom yelped as the numbers flashed onto the computer screen. “Over five hundred billion! That has got to be a record!” “In actual fact, the record number of viewers for any information broadcast on Odilia is 100% of the population, which occurred during the Supreme Ruler’s jubilee address six years ago,” said Andyr, dryly. “However it is widely acknowledged that those figures were doctored to suit the Supreme Ruler’s quite considerable ego.” “Shut up.” Nisom had abandoned all pretence of traditional Odilian politeness weeks ago, as soon as the money had started rolling in for their reality show, Close Encounters. “The voting results are next.” The three Odilians leaned forward in their seats. Lubda looked at Nisom, who was wearing a garment imprinted with the images of Leandros and Eve. Andyr wore a similar garment, with the pictures of Beau and Cassandra on it. Lubda’s neck quills fluttered in amusement. These two Odilians had been the most vocal of opponents to Lubda’s theories of human emotion. Yet now they were enthusiastic about the whole idea. Especially since they had shown their sex recordings to a focus group of Odilians, who had gone wild for the new entertainment.
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For one reason, above all others. These disks, unlike the previous Earthling disks, showed evidence of an intriguing human phenomenon: men and women, when they had sex, enjoyed it more when they were in love. And the planet of Odilia was captivated by watching humans falling in love. Close Encounters was the entire planet’s new obsession, because of its emotion. It was a good thing that Odilians had a fine appreciation of irony. Otherwise, Lubda would’ve had to jump into the nearest escape pod and jet off to some remote moon in consternation. The results of the vote appeared on the screen, the outcome of billions of Odilians voting for their favorite couple of the week. Andyr cried out in triumph and jumped out of the chair, engaging in a traditional Odilian victory dance. “I knew it!” the usually staid Odilian yelled, as Lubda and Nisom watched in surprise. “Beau and Cassandra were by far the superior couple this week!” “Leandros and Eve won last week,” Nisom sniffed, ever the poor loser. “And they will win next week, too. It’s Balling the Boss.” “I have calculated the odds and I believe I can confidently wager that Beau and Cassandra will win next week as well,” Andyr said. “I am ready to agree to the monetary terms whenever you choose.” “I will gladly take your Odilian credits,” Nisom said. Andyr waved appendages around in a new dance of joy, and Nisom turned away in disgust. “Lubda, you are a genius,” Nisom said now, and Lubda’s quills fluttered in still more amusement. “This idea of inviting the audience to vote for their favorite couple of the week has made Close Encounters even more popular. It nearly causes me to forgive you for not predicting that the humans would be clever enough to escape.” Lubda shrugged and said in an innocent tone, “There is still so much we do not know about Earthling behavior and capabilities.” Lubda chose not to mention the fact that the humans hadn’t escaped by themselves. It was going to be bad enough when Nisom found out that Lubda, as the expert on human behavior, language, and emotion, was receiving even more money than the other two
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Odilians for Close Encounters. And had been offered a prestigious (and lucrative) deal for a holobook and a series of broadcasts explaining human psychology. On second thoughts, maybe Lubda should keep that escape pod handy after all.
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About the Author
B.H. Dark is the pen name of award-winning authors Julie Cohen and Kathy Love. Julie and Kathy met when they were five years old on an elementary school field trip to the zoo. Kathy thought Julie was weird because she liked to hug trees. Julie thought Kathy was weird because she didn’t hug trees. Fortunately, they both liked weirdness. In high school, they hung out in the back of chemistry class writing erotic stories about themselves and a variety of rock stars. They’d watch movies and talk about how they could make the endings better. It didn’t really surprise anyone when they both turned out to be romance writers. Kathy Love is a USA Today bestselling author of sexy paranormal romance and emotional contemporary romance. She lives in Maryland with her daughter and a bateared dog. You can visit her on www.readkathylove.com. Julie Cohen is an internationally bestselling author of sexy romantic comedy single titles and category romance. She lives in England with her husband, son and about a million guitars. You can visit her on www.julie-cohen.com. When they get together, they drink too much, talk until they’re hoarse, and generally act weird. You can visit B. H. Dark on http://bhdark.blogspot.com, on MySpace and Facebook, and email them at
[email protected].
A mating ritual as old as time could be the death of them both…
In Heat © 2008 Leigh Wyndfield Jax’s yearly mating cycle couldn’t come at a more inconvenient time. He’s on the verge of ending seven years of exile and claiming his birthright, but for 24 hours he’ll be vulnerable to his enemies, alone and in agony—unless he can find a willing partner. He thinks he’s found the perfect solution in the beautiful slave Waverly. He’ll buy her at any price, and after it’s over, he’ll give her the one thing all slaves crave. Freedom. But Waverly isn’t really a slave. She’s a transport pilot double crossed by Junkeaters and sold to a notorious gunrunner. Escape is the only thing on her mind—and she better disappear fast, before her own heat reaches a crescendo. Before she can slip away, the overpowering need to mate crashes over them, the intensity taking them both by surprise. But the Inter-World Council is out to hang Jax for a crime he didn’t commit, Junkeaters are hot on their trail, and ruthless arms traders are gunning for them. Their passion may burn hot enough to last a lifetime, but first they must survive. Warning: Hot sex, adult words, and lots of adventure in and out of the sack!
Enjoy the following excerpt for In Heat: “Because I’m in heat, and if what you’re saying is true, you are too.” His gaze snapped to hers. “What are you telling me?” Her face was grave, made even more serious by the stark lighting in the room. “We’re in trouble. I need to leave here. Before it’s too late.” “It’s already too late.” He stopped her when she opened her mouth to explain herself. “You can’t leave.” He didn’t want to hear what she had to say. In the end, it wouldn’t matter anyway. Maybe it would be better not to know. “Tomorrow. Make it until tomorrow and you can walk away.” He ran his hand down her arm. “I’ll sign your papers and you’ll be a free slave.”
“That’s great, considering I’m not a slave.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “Don’t touch me, Jax.” “I have to. If I don’t touch, everything gets worse. If I touch, I can hold off for a few more hours.” In fact, he felt better now, calmer and almost in control. Her eyes opened as if an idea just hit her. “Are you telling me you paid twelve thousand decodreams for one night with me?” “Yes.” He fought it for a few moments, then ducked his head to kiss her shoulder, a closed-mouth press of his lips to her skin. She made a small humming sound. A strange sense of satisfaction raced through him at the noise. “Why…” She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. “Why aren’t you back on your home planet? Shouldn’t you be with your own people for this?” He didn’t answer that. It would be a long conversation and he couldn’t take the time, nor did he really want to tell her the answer. Instead, he asked his own questions. “As a Mechander, don’t you think it’s odd you’re a slave? Why didn’t your people ransom you back?” “Maybe because I’m not a slave?” She hissed when he ran his tongue across her collarbone. “Stop. This is a really bad idea.” “I can’t stop. In twenty-four hours it will be over and we’ll both be free.” He held her still. “Your people may come for you, whether you’re a slave or not.” “No. They won’t.” There was something about the tone in her voice which made him believe her. Odd, he thought, her family should be searching for her. Then the heat built higher and his mind could no longer focus. “The next wave will start soon.” She tensed, then began to relax in his arms. “You smell like no other man I’ve ever scented before.” “And you smell like cinnamon.” Jax turned her on her side and tucked his legs behind hers. “Waverly, if it’s true you’re not a slave, why do you have the mark on your arm?”
She glanced at it. Fourteen numbers ran up the underside of her right wrist. “Alexander, Deek and I were running a scam with the Junkeaters. I posed as a slave, right down to the forged papers with Alexander as my owner. When I got in this morning, I started feeling strange midway through breakfast. Next thing I know, I’m waking up naked in bed with you.” With her body resting along his, Jax felt content. He knew he had only minutes until the next wave came, he could feel it building, but the burn inside him had receded. How ironic that he’d finally figured out how to control the mating ritual right before he left to go home. “You must be insane to do business with the Junkeaters. Those bastards will double cross you at every turn.” “They didn’t this time. They paid up on the spot.” “In exchange for what?” She didn’t answer at first so he ran his thumb down over the numbers on her arm. They didn’t feel raised like a tattoo, but he couldn’t be sure. “Are your hands always red?” “No.” He compared the color of his hands with her white skin. “It tells the men of my race that the mating ritual is upon them. By tomorrow, my hands will be back to normal.” “How long does it take for them to get this color?” “Two months.” “Two months?” She rolled over to face him. “And you bought me today? That’s cutting it a little close, don’t you think?” “I had a delivery I needed to make. It took me longer than it should have.” Even to his own ears, the excuse fell flat. He had waited too late. “Not much of a planner, are you?” Jax stared into her blue on blue eyes and realized she was teasing him. He hadn’t had a woman do that for seven years. Sector 12 didn’t have many females in general, and his reputation was bad enough that the ones here didn’t have anything to do with him unless he came with decodreams.
Jax growled at her and nipped her shoulder with his teeth. “I ended up with you, didn’t I?” “You paid twelve thousand decodreams for a slave who isn’t even a slave. Alexander ripped you off.” Jax’s arms tightened on her convulsively. “Talk time is over, girl. The next wave is on us.” “What am I doing?” She sounded as if she spoke to herself. “I’ve got to get out of here.” She moved to leave the bed, forcing him to roll on top of her to keep her still, their naked bodies pressed tightly together. “You can’t leave. Don’t fight me or you’ll speed it up. Believe me, you don’t want to do that.” She raised her head off the mattress. “Jax, listen to me. I’m having my own set of issues here. I need to leave or I won’t be able to control my behavior.” “You cannot leave.” He made sure he put as much conviction as he possibly could into the statement. She must stay with him. She sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment, then lifted her head to run her tongue along his lower lip. Fiery need shot through him. It was a Jimlee gesture of love between mated couples. And, in his present state, it was more erotic than anything he’d ever encountered before in his life. “Waverly, that wasn’t smart.” He lowered his head and ran his tongue over her lower lip as lightly as she had to his. She groaned, arching her head back into the pillow. Slowly, she grabbed his head and pulled his lips to hers. Her action was unexpected. Jax felt the kiss race along his already heated veins and blast through his body. The soft feel of her lips gave way to the heat of her mouth as she opened for him. His tongue touched hers and desire exploded over him, so strong, so intense he couldn’t think. As if she felt it too, Waverly wound her legs around his thighs, pulling him closer to her core. Jax broke the kiss when the tip of his erection touched her sex.
“Listen to me,” he said between pants. “If we go this quickly, you’re going to be exhausted long before it’s over.” He framed her head in his hands, his gaze holding hers. “The waves will smooth out soon and run about one every hour. We need to take this slow and steady.” “Okay.” She shifted her hips so that his shaft pressed against the slick heat between her legs. “Let’s take it slow.” She pulled his head down to run her tongue along his bottom lip again. Was she teasing him? Did she understand what she was doing? He met her gaze and knew she did. He could see the swirl of her own desire in her eyes, on her half-parted lips and in the heat of her body. “Dammit,” he said, and drove himself inside her to the hilt.
Just because Fate brings you your perfect mate doesn’t mean it’ll be easy.
Fated © 2008 Lauren Dane Cascadia Wolves Series
Could there be any worse fate than a road trip from Seattle to L.A.—with one’s mother—to attend a wedding? Why yes, when one isn’t married yet, like Megan Warden. Toss in a grandmother and a carload of already married sisters and it’s a recipe for sneaking sips of “special” coffee while someone else drives. Shane Rosario has better things to do than attend a wedding where his father’s relatives will be at him nonstop about getting married and having children. If it weren’t for seeing his anchor bond, Layla, he’d have taken a pass on the entire weekend. It would be easy, since he’s become adept at hiding who and what he is. When the two weren’t even looking, Fate steps in and before they know it, their bond is sealed. Bonded pair, married in the eyes of their people. Two people tied together in every way. Trouble is, Shane’s not sure he wants all that comes with Megan. And Megan’s certain she’s not willing to live outside her pack, pretending to be human. The distance between them is more than geographical. It’s a widening gulf rapidly filling with resentment…an emotional divide only acceptance could bridge. Can Shane can accept himself to cross it? Only if they let love take control.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Fated: He could no longer hold on once they entered her room and she locked the door. His head swam in a sea of her scent. Of her desire, of the basic imprint of her on the room around him. He. Had. To. Claim. Her. When she turned to face him, the primal male inside him thrilled to see her eyes widen at how close he stood to her. A soft sigh filtered from her mouth. A mouth he set his own to and fell.
Her taste roared through him. His senses hummed with satisfaction, his body hardened as his brain filled with all that was his woman. He wanted to consume her, wanted every inch of her inside and out. Never in his life had anyone ever held so much fascination for him and for the first time since he’d began to really struggle with who and what he was, he reveled in it. Accepted that he was a werewolf and she was his mate. The freedom of it was nearly as heady as the connection of their two hearts and souls. Her head fell against the door as he pulled the front of her pretty dress open, the muted sounds of buttons flying and pinging off the carpet and walls filling the space between heaving breaths. Beneath was a feast for his eyes. Acres of creamy skin. A flat belly. Pretty dark blue panties and a matching bra. Bending his head, he feasted on the smattering of freckles on the curve of her right breast as he popped the catch of her bra, freeing them into his grateful hands. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “More. Touch me, Shane. Claim me.” She writhed against him and his body reacted as her scent filled him up to the bursting point. He wanted her with single-minded intensity. “God. God. You’re so fucking beautiful. I…” Instead of saying more he showed her. Cruised his mouth along her collarbone. Sturdy. Strong and yet totally feminine. He licked along the hollow of her throat, swallowing the frantic beat of her pulse, tasting the echo of his own need as it seeped from her skin. Her nipples, so sensitive they beaded as he moved to them, tasted like everything he’d ever wanted and never knew he craved. Her arousal hung between them like something tangible. The scent held him, fascinated, enthralled. His cock throbbed along with the beat of her heart under his tongue as he licked up the line of her chest, up her neck, capturing her earlobe for just a brief moment until she cried out. “Help me!” With two moves, his pants were down. He kicked them free and she wrapped a long, muscular leg around his waist, drawing him tight to her. Her dress hung in tatters. He yanked off her panties, the sound of ripping silk doing things to him low and deep. All he could think on was shoving his cock into her even as he knew he should take his time, show her pleasure.
“Inside or I will maim you,” she gasped out and he obliged, guiding his cock to her gate. The slippery entrance bathed the head of his cock in wet heat. He laughed, totally happy for the first time in his life, as he surged up and into her body with a cry of joy. He stilled and she felt more than just his cock inside her, it was as if she’d cracked herself open and he’d settled within her. His joy ebbed into her very bones, married with hers. It was so right. Tears swam, blurring her vision. Her view of this man’s face. His beautiful face. It was then, her gaze locked with his, as he pressed back inside, she saw his wolf there, in his eyes. The loneliness of it struck her deep. This wolf of his wanted to be free, to be loved and she knew then, knew as she knew he was hers, their road would not be easy. “Your wolf is so beautiful,” she said softly. Despite that knowing, she knew she wanted him forever and would fight for him too. For that moment, she would revel in what they had because it was beautiful.
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